Selling A Dream Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

selling a dream

I like my little house in the interior of Algarve.
It used to be a stable for a mule and several sheep
and at the time, thirty years ago it was cheap.
They tell me those in the know I ought to paint the house in case I want to sell me.
I have no wishto sell which disappoint real estate agents
who knock on my door and offer me a precise which is
an offer was made by the people of not knowledge, other than turning a buck.
People who think newness is is what people want.
It is not what they want is a place where they can feel at home and not
be bothered by what the ads tell them to like.
The house has cane roofs, and a prospective buyer said if he bought the house
he had to build a new roof.
I told him he was wasting his time I will not tolerate vandalism by people
whose dream is pedestrian.
I will return soon and feel the peace of honesty.