My house sits in that
blue-collar buffer zone
between what used to be 
the middle of the middle class
and the people you might see
on the 11 o’clock local news.

The yard was big and the kids
were small and we figured we’d 
just be here a few years. Three
decades later the neighborhood is
even more boring than it used to be.

But at this point “boring” has
begun to provide a dependable
respite from a fast-changing culture
and the daily proclamations
of our Very Stable Genius.

Having been built in the 60’s
from sturdy materials, its rate
of decay is apparently slower
than my own. What more could
anyone ask of a house?