Amanda Barnett

Matches

can only be called small things, though they’ve been demolishing houses and other
objects for many years. Sometimes there are ten seconds before they singe a hand. While
frequenting bars and restaurants, matches have a look to them that says, “slide me into your
pocket and let’s wreak havoc!”

Matches want to be seen only for their flames, either yellow or blue. They fret over
whether or not we believe that blue is hotter. In the art world, blue is called a ‘cool’ color. A
travesty, the matches agree.

Many matches have weight problems; they appear so thin and wan. Once I tried to feed
an entire matchbook. They all held their breath. Their heads grew blister-like. Little eyes
squinched into nothing. So obstinate, those matches.

Amanda Barnett is a writer, artist, and mother based in San Francisco. She is also an adjunct writing professor at University of Maryland Global Campus. Her poems are forthcoming in Plants & Poetry and Wild Roof. She is a graduate of the MFA program at George Mason University.