Someone trashed the window
Of me ol’ man’s White Van.
Stoved it in proper
Just because he thinks he can.
Scattering crystalline shards of glass
To emphasise this work of class,
An act with the intention
Of some kind of henchman,
With a mind of the mindless
Who simply don’t process
That actions maketh consequence,
A well-worn, hard-learned first-defence:
As Sisyphean in origin¹
As recurrent original sin,
This passive acquistion
Of a moral position
A hard-wired proclivity
Of the Human Condition.
I wonder what he felt like-
I wonder was he proud
His crass act of destruction
Interesting passing crowds.
It’s hard to imagine, then,
That no-one heard a jot
Especially given the public parking spot:
Right on a three way intersection,
A fair few houses within hearing direction…
It must’ve made a decent racket
When the scheming b*st*rd whacked it!
Thanks, though, to our neighbours-
Good friends indeed
Who thought just to mention it
In case we didn’t see,
Leading me to question
The destructive intention
Of someone we may never meet
Who may this simple act repeat,
Left unchallenged in his stealth:
An unmarked case of social ill-health.