The speaker says that the law has taken their home, and the poem is built around that sense of loss. The title, "Unreal estate," plays on "real estate," which hints that the home has become something unreal, either because it was taken away or because ownership was never as solid as it seemed. The speaker doesn't spell out the details, so we're left with the bare fact of the theft and a few odd images.
The home is called a "batten of here and pretty," and that phrase is strange and hard to pin down. A batten is a strip of wood that fastens things in place, so the speaker may be describing what held their sense of place together: being here, in somewhere pleasant. Then the home is "condemned," a word that suggests both a ruined building and a judgment passed on a person. The closing comparisons, a "chance god" and "the last state's coin," make it feel like something once valued that has lost its power, like a worthless currency. The mood is bitter, quiet, and a little dazed.