A good solid second book of poetry by a woman who tries rather agonizingly to dispel the myths (about life, love, hell-fire) by which grownups threaten children. The difficulty is distinguishing reality amid half-truths (""I believed/ some myth about/ if any part/ were lie,/ it all was""); she shakes this confusion off by disregarding all orders and both literally (a plot) and metaphorically (via poetry) taking off for the beyond: ""After I ran away from home and came back again,/ my Papa said, Go if you must but mind three things:/ stay away from water, stay off of boats, and don't/ go up in an aeroplane. So first I learned to swim,/then I learned to sail, and then I learned to fly."" Life to her is something to be conquered; it's irrationally perverse (""Why can't I have/ Grandfather's bell?/ Because I want it""), ironic (""When the storm came up we hardly/ knew it was coming. The sky/ turned wondrous green and we/ admired it momentarily until/ we remembered it wasn't/ a color for skies""), and oppressed by the constant fear of death. These are strong poems by a poet gifted not so much with verbal felicity as energetic thought and action that tries to see through the rationalizations and lies of this world.