A month ago we posted a piece about houses and mansions, because houses are so much bigger than they used to be and mansions are so very much bigger than even your average big house. Being rich is all about square footage when we talk about housing. And here we have a poem by Marilyn Robertson about mansions and what happens when they lose all sense of propriety, go wild and break the law.
When Mansions Go Bad
Bad news for big houses this morning:
COUNTY PURSUES TOUGHER RULES ON MANSIONS.
When mansions go bad, you’ve got to get tough.
They’ll start parking any which way on your street.
When you come home, they’ll be sprawling on
your front steps, smoking on your lawn.
A mansion can swallow a meadow in a single afternoon.
It can block a view, turn a clearing into a gym,
a lane into a bowling alley.
They’ve already hijacked a couple of houses over on Elm.
Just sat their big butts down and took over,
spreading conservatories, wine cellars, ballrooms
clear out to the neighbor’s fence.
Now mansions must keep to a modest 5,000 square feet.
But what mansion is going to stand for that?
They’re going to rebel.
They’re going to put their thousands of extra feet down wherever they damn please.