Slides (Interpreted by Nancy) by Nancy Kangas

Not that long ago, you went to the camera store and asked for either slide film or print film. You had your reasons for choosing one over the other and it probably had to do with money. From about 1954 on, my parents were slide people. It’s not like they took tons of pictures, but after 60 years they had accumulated stacks of thin metal boxes, each politely filled with meticulously labeled slides.

One day a couple years ago, my father handed me a large envelope labeled, “DUPLICATES.” Inside were slides – a mess of them. I was supposed to share them with my brothers.

I will eat lobster
with a bib
because of the butter.

We used pieces of tape
and real socks, which speaks in part
to our modest expectations for Santa’s visit
and in part to our misunderstanding of tape.

It’s scary how alive you are
when you talk about your ex.

Some people would be so happy to have a tail.
They would hold it and show it and wag it about.
Some people wouldn’t.

Only the people who sew curtains
know the exciting difficulties, the cords and weights
of curtain hardware.

To Ohioans in California
anything is possible.

Nancy Kangas lives in Columbus, Ohio and is happy to field questions about the city. She writes and draws for  Muse magazine, and often teaches poetry in residencies sponsored by the Ohio Arts Council. In addition to being a writer, she is also a flower grower, florist, and public librarian. For over a decade she edited Nancy’s Magazine, which tried to push the boundaries of what a variety magazine could and should do. She is a runner who prefers long distances because while running, she is able to figure out answers to creative, social and household problems.