for rent

A child had a tantrum here:
black heel marks on the wall
recorded the fury at bed level;
a dog repeatedly scratched
at the edge of the porch door;
here something gouged
the countertop, there the floor.
The spinach green hall
and the purple bedroom
are deal breakers; and
why has no one cut the grass?
Why such grandiose marble
stone floors in a basement
with a seven-foot ceiling?
Like a snail on a yardstick,
their slow passage here
has left a trail
that makes me realize
I, too, crawl slowly.