Glass Houses

She lived in a glass house
Secluded from gunless cowboys,
And toothless monsters.

Frequently checking the windows and the doors
For intruders with sharp fingernails,
Clasping yesterday’s paper.

She watered her dead plants,
With gasoline
And stocked her fridge,
With lightbulbs.
She kept lipstick and broken sunglasses,
In her cupboards.

She threw stones at her walls,
Nothing ever broke.
But she was no longer a child.