On Having A Burglar Alarm Fitted

Inside this electronic shell,

Leper-belled, I feel unclean.

These sensors, icon-eyed,

Intrude upon my life,

Blink and scold as I walk my rooms,

Flare at me if I move too fast.

My few treasures

Worshipped now like idols.

My defence somehow an offence

Against my fellow man.

A coward’s deed whose armour chafes.

There is more honour in a ransacked room.

 

 

© Derek Power