ANDREW JORON

Rift Habitat

Why I seem same seam:

mothered more than once, I

rail to rule the reel of real.

My sum, some-

thing

massed as

my nothing most mist––

Plangent the plunge, full-throated

through

My mind-roofed rift.

I invent my inventory in

inverted time, tangent

to the sureness of my shore, & its

voracious shining.

Rending as rendering––

The line, the river

that has no mouth.

That row that rose: run down, round Sun––

Moon the fullness of

rune, the form of

ruin, renewing.

The starry stops, ends

In themselves––

Shape poured empty

that requires choirs.

The low to console, the high

to conceal. The call to cancel.

All is all exception––

Andrew Joron is the author of several books of poetry, mostly recently Fathom (NY: Black Square Editions, 2003). A volume of his essays and prose poems, The Cry at Zero, is forthcoming from Counterpath Press in 2007.

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