2001/driveway

The city is going
to sell us our
driveway.
Their representatives
come out with cameras
to size things up,
wanting to see it
as more than it is.
A lengthy process,
I’ve been told,
littered with bureaucrats
and words like compliance.
A matter for city
and county both.
Late in the day
they arrive in a van,
we meet them
in the street,
you shake hands,
I do not,
clutching almonds
in my palm.
We stand in the
wet oak leaves
between the truck
and the car,
while I go over
their checklist,
slipping the business
card in my clipboard,
which the guy
with the English
accent extends.

1/26/01