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  • FLARE: The Flagler Review- Möbius Strip


    By Joe Carvalko

    As the centuries turned one into another,
    we lost the gift of ancients
    for hearing muted primal screams,
    for seeing Munch’s faceless shriek—
    the unmistakable precursors
    of everything spiraling into darkness.
    I did not see her wane
    and wander in the whirligig of despair,
    until they threw the keys away.
    They took her to the place
    where lights bounced-off
    linoleum worn and polished,
    behind metal doors
    with a window—
    a lock turned,
    behind which people twirled, laughed,
    lifted dresses over their heads
    or sucked their thumbs and bawled.
    I searched for tapestries
    of blues, births, deaths,
    that might yield clues
    known to a prior life,
    threads that lead to “why or where?”
    But, like a skein of twine
    wound into a möbius strip;
    I can trace


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