07/07/2026
In These Notary Streets
I’m out here in these notary streets,
With my stamp, my book, and sensible receipts.
GPS said, “Turn left”—then lied with its chest,
Now I’m circling downtown looking professionally stressed.
I pull up polished, calm, and elite,
While my parking meter’s eating better than me.
“Do you have your ID?” I ask with grace,
They say, “I left it at home,” with a full confident face.
Baby, no ID, no seal, no show,
This ain’t a vibe check, this is Texas notary law.
I can’t guess your name, your will, or your fate,
I’m a notary public—not your probate soulmate.
“Can you tell me which form I need?”
No ma’am, that’s legal advice in a trench coat, indeed.
I can witness your signature, verify your face,
But I’m not drafting your deed in the parking lot space.
Loan docs thick as a Sunday sermon stack,
Borrower saying, “Do I sign front and back?”
I point with my pen like a courtroom ballet,
“Where the document indicates”—that’s all I can say.
Mobile fee paid, I’m headed your way,
Through traffic, detours, and Dallas decay.
Luxury service with a government twist,
Concierge notarization with compliance in the fist.
The stamp hits clean, the journal gets fed,
Another signer verified, another document led.
I came, I saw, I notarized with flair,
Then vanished in traffic like smoke in the air.
So cheers to the seals and the mileage we meet,
To the oaths, acknowledgments, and courthouse heat.
I’m booked, I’m bonded, I’m hard to defeat—
The notary king of these Dallas streets.
