Come Not Often

I slammed a boulder through the window.
I did, I got a crane and I learned how to use it
and I picked up a rock and I dropped it into the
window and I smashed it.
Twice I have been witness to the repositioning
of large rocks, both moved by men whose opinion
I liked and both times I have been shocked
by the desire to move such largeness into unnatural,
man-made forms.

The glass was perfectly clear and had been washed
with windex by a man in white who had been
sitting in my head.
I ate an apple and then I smashed the
window and I stood at a safe distance
so when the grass cracked, not a single piece
would scrape my skin.