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A Man of a Few More Words - by Swan Morrison

The Housing Market (Poem)

The house was too small for our uses.
It was now time to sell up and go.
Our two bedroomed terrace with no lawn at all
We now had begun to outgrow.

So onto the market our starter home went,
And buyers arrived to look round.
But none made an offer – so what could be wrong?
A way to sell had to be found.

A friend said the smell of some fresh baking bread
Would encourage the viewers to stay.
So we sprayed with a can of ‘fresh baking bread’ scent,
But the offers did not come our way.

A neighbour suggested the house was too full:
Our things were preventing a move.
So in storage we placed all possessions we owned,
Yet our luck didn’t start to improve.

We next decorated both inside and out.
In new carpets we chose to invest.
We had a new kitchen and bathroom installed,
But did not spark the hoped interest.

My wife was appalled at now having to sleep
With each man when we thought we might sell.
I agreed that today’s housing market was tough
As I serviced the gay ones as well.

We finally sold at a resonable price
Once the buyer had raised a large mortgage.
I don’t think he actually wanted the house,
But some of his kin we held hostage.

Despite that, he drove a hard bargain.
We dropped by ten thousand or more.
He agreed on a compromise price, and we killed
Just one aunt and his brother-in-law.

So take note, you young couples who’re selling.
Today’s housing market is tough.
A couple of cans of ‘fresh baking bread’ scent
May simply not be enough.