I love you and let us keep the red and white striped towel
pretty much forever. Let us put it in the back seat of the Dodge Dart
with our future children where it will smell like melted crayons
and leave little dents on their sun-sleeping faces.
Yes to possible cowboys or race cars
To danger known especially in the toes
It’s a holiday
when the sun is on your head
and the men make a party
out of trouble
This is Queen School.
Have a seat.
Oh deer, you breathing beast.
Oh Dad, your yellow suit.
Nancy Kangas lives in Columbus, Ohio. Her poetry has been published in print and online, and for over a decade she edited Nancy’s Magazine. She writes and draws for Muse magazine, and often teaches poetry in residencies sponsored by the Ohio Arts Council. Nancy works as a cut-flower grower, florist and public librarian.