House arrest

 

I could go out, but downstairs scares me

It’s a frozen tundra with gun towers

And barbed wire – the gulag archipelago

I know it’s a gross failure of desire

 

To see what’s outside. I simply don’t want to

The bars are imaginary by what can you?

You see, I have lost all volition

I’ve made my house into a prison!

 

It’s been like this for years and years

In fact, ever since I retired

Visits from the family on Sunday

Tea, cake, awkward conversation

 

I might get myself a new tattoo

Bird, jail, choky, the clink, jail

At least I can get email

I’ve made my house into a prison!

 

The geraniums on the window-sill

Are struggling to be free

They don’t know its winter

They have no seasons, you see

 

They are pushing out flowers

Like tiny red fists. Bless them

I admire them. That’s ambition

I’ve made my house into a prison!

 

Hope is what keeps me going

Home-made hooch, colour TV

Sunlight glints on the horizon

I imagine walks to the museum

 

Flowers. My favourite tree

I know it’s the human condition

I’ve read Sartre’s existential exposition

I’ve made my house into a prison!