The Phrases of the Moon

Full
 
            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.
           
 
Gibbous
 
Sense
Less science: the
 
Wish-apparition of a perfect fact.
 
            As thought, the war
Of one upon one.
 
 
Half
 
Half a mind almost mine.
 
Whole
             fragment, I am
A being from another word.
 
 
Crescent
 
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.
 

New
 
            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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