The Phrases of the Moon

            the blow to a gong
—gone blind
            with the sight of white
Silk, O milk
            of my reason—
            sun reseen in
My mad mad mirror.
Less science: the
Wish-apparition of a perfect fact.
            As thought, the war
Of one upon one.
Half a mind almost mine.
             fragment, I am
A being from another word.
Bow bent back—to what release?
            My lone line, the join of all I am not.
A minor truth betrays
A major one—
A lore
            for the lyre.
For it is written: liar with a why.

            Calling all coincidence, I will
Deem the dark my day.
Yet—if I say
            I am lying, I am lying
To you now.
O zero raised to zero—I am lying with you now.
Andrew Joron, "The Phrases of the Moon." Copyright © 2016 by Andrew Joron. Used by permission of the author for PoetryNow, a partnership between the Poetry Foundation and the WFMT Radio Network.
Source: PoetryNow (2016)
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