We knew his lion story. Say “whiskers”
and that was enough. “Whiskers?” he’d say
sternum rising. “I’ve seen some whiskers.”
We became experts in non-lion.
She was new.
Heroes hold heroism in their bellies
I will take this Kabalevsky Sonatina
and give you what you didn’t know you wanted:
to weep. The open fourths will shake your ribs
and make you miss what is gone from inside.
You will beg to live in this ache.
How come I am the only one here
who washes out the plastic bags
Each of you
would be happier
said the emissary
from Frank Talk Island
through the little megaphone.
Near this water? In this heat?
Nancy Kangas lives in Columbus. Her poetry has been published in print and online, and for over a decade she edited Nancy’s Magazine. She writes for Muse magazine, and often teaches poetry in residencies sponsored by the Ohio Arts Council. Nancy is co-directing The Preschool Poets, a series of animated short films based on poems composed by her young students.