For once the adults are not drunk
on their supervisory capacity
and the blue girl is alone on her yellow box
promising a fine time with explosions
that will snap like red birds from her hand.
Although an illustration, she can read
caution: carefully read other cautions
on side panel and do not put in mouth.
She know the adults will be roused
by noisemakers in the house. But O
gravel, silver fulminate, cigarette paper—
O delicious misspelled instructions
O her thromming flammable heart.

Sarah Barber

SARAH BARBER’s poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from Poetry, Crab Orchard Review, The Journal, Fugue, Malahat, Crazyhorse, New Ohio Review and FIELD. Her book, The Kissing Party, was published in 2010 by the National Poetry Review Press. She teaches at St. Lawrence University in Canton, NY.
Sarah Barber

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