Warning Label
- Warning Label
The room smells of xylene. I wantto be an SUVparked inside of the mall.
An explosion of red feathersin a hospital.I rehearse the number for poison control.
The guards switch out like ketchupbottles on the tableof a diner not too far
from here. A man opens the sidewalkwith a jackhammer—cigarette quaking in his mouth.
Satan or Iwas an orphan.
With careful mirrorsthey turn the prison into an aquarium. [End Page 153]
Collin Callahan was born in Illinois. His poems have appeared in Denver Quarterly, SLICE, Hobart, Carve Magazine, Ninth Letter, and elsewhere. Collin holds an MFA from the University of Arkansas—where he was awarded the 2017 Walton Family Fellowship in Poetry—and is currently a PhD candidate in Creative Writing at Florida State University. He is the recipient of the 2021 Bat City Review Editors' Prize in poetry. You can find his work at collincallahanwrites.com.
