First-time Buyers

She dings the bell, a muffled chime

from the gut of number twenty-nine,

and both of us step off the step,

survey. This place was quite a schlep

from where we parked behind the bar

we’d called ‘our future local.’ Ha!

A couple emerges, whips past, and

a suited lad is left; one hand

grips an iPad, the other keys.

He holds a smile, says ‘This way, please’

and leads us down a mildewed hall.

She mutters ‘I think we’ve seen it all’

but, being English, we poke about.

Two more stand ready as we file out.

Two more stand ready as we file through

the gate of number fifty-two

which backs against the prison. Wire

coils above the back yard, higher

than anything the listing caught

on film somehow, it seems. Abort!

We curse another not-a-chance,

then curse another not-a-chance

at forty-six. And thirty-three.

It’s disappointing. But stick with me:

let’s find a place we want to make

a home in, for each other’s sake,

perhaps. The dice are loaded, cast.

Do both show matching sides, at last?