Thursday, November 11, 2010


or "sometimes I feel like a dog chasing its tail"

In February, a sign went up on the lawn,
papers signed, the process put in motion.
The little house was kept clean at all times.
Realtors brought young couples to walk
through in search of a starter home,
something modest, something to fix up.

Business cards piled up on the table,
weeks and months passed without
anyone wanting, inquiring, or offering.
The price was lowered again, and again.
All hope seemed lost, but an offer came.

Meanwhile, it was hitting the fan in DC.
The President read from his magic teleprompter
throwing around clich├ęs about Wall Street
to Main Street
, and talking about at the end
of the day
and sitting at the kitchen table.

This was the summer when reality struck.
The American Dream became The American Myth.
Record foreclosures, savings and loans failed,
the prices fell, values went down, taxes went up,
the mortgage remained the same, and all
the people came to terms with staying put.

No approval for the buyers, no sale for the sellers,
and no sale for the next guy couldn’t sell his house
to us and he couldn’t buy the house he wanted
to purchase and that guy couldn’t move either.

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