About this poet

Andrew Joron is the author of Trance Archive: New and Selected Poems (City Lights Publishers, 2010).

A = A

Andrew Joron

Mine to ask a mask to say, A is not A.



No one, ever the contrarian, to answer.



The moon is both divided & multiplied

        by water: as chance, as the plural of chant.



O diver, to be sea-surrounded by a thought bled white—

        a blankness as likely as blackness.



What is the word for getting words & forgetting?



Might night right sight?



I, too late to relate

        I & I, trap light in sound

& sing no thing that breath can bring.

Copyright © 2013 by Andrew Joron. Used with permission of the author.

Andrew Joron

Andrew Joron is the author of Trance Archive: New and Selected Poems (City Lights Publishers, 2010).

by this poet

poem
Across the stiffening pond, your steps
        send broken branching signals
Faultless as some harp-tuning 
    
        dedicated to silence: each note
Carries an interior candle of dissonance
        the dark calendar
Marked by a sequence of frozen suns

There is a season deeper than winter
Passing in these
poem
The pilot alone knows
That the plot is missing its
Eye.

Why isn't this "ominous science" 
   itself afraid, a frayed
Identity?

Pray, protagonist —
Prey to this series of staggered instants.

Here the optic 
Paints its hole, its self-consuming moment.
It is speech, dispelled, that 
   begs to begin to ache.

So