Old fillings fall out—old
infatuations rise
up—old habits move
on—old stories settle
in—I’m not so old I can’t tuck
myself into the next
roll over.
old/new
Rampant
Scams in layered designer
clothes dance under
runways where beautiful
naïves hollow out thought
before all of us
left. Where the real
spectator sits huddled
is old/new media free.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 