It could be a gnarled mess in springs,
or a revolt in the street. She refuses
to reveal what she will lean into. A bounce
gone awry or tricks that unravel—she mouths
the words: the difference is in the recoil.
flip
Carnet
Spiral sprung, perforation
splitting before its time,
this old Mead memo
tablet has no end
without flipping over itself
to begin again.
The safest way out
of this circular
function is to slam
the covers shut—you
still inside—return
it to the shelf
with the others
where you belong.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 