Father
'This is the way towards kindness'
he said, 'believe me', and I did;
I saw the small brown flecks of wisdom
like rust-drops on his hands;
six blind, sleek, mewling kittens

birth-wet and innocent of claw
he gathered into a hessian bag
with stones for travelling companions
and swung and swung it through the blue air
and out into the waters of the lake.

Sometimes still I see them scrabbling,
their snout-heads raised, their bodies
nude and shivering in an alien element,
sometimes — when I see the children,
their big, wide-open eyes unseeing,

skin stretched dry and crinkling
like leather and above them the blue sky,
that enviable sun shining — again I hear
'this is the way towards kindness,
believe me' and I do, I do, I do.
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The poem "Father" originated in watching my father drown a litter of kittens and, because I loved and trusted him, and he told me that if the kittens were allowed to live, they would either starve or be predated so it was easier to drown them now. The last line is presented as a doubtful certainty! a willed agreement, and the whole poem is loosely intended as a parable of the old notion that suffering is an act of God and is to be accepted.

John F. Deane on "Father"
"In Praise of Poetry About Bugs"

"The kind of attention we train on a bug, when we do, displaces the inner concerns of a meditating subject or re-places those concerns onto external phenomena. The poet considers unlikeness to generate kind-ness—similarity or analogy, and, in certain poems or poets’ moods, something like gentleness."

via LITERARY HUB
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What Sparks Poetry:
Eleanor Goodman on Translation


"For Zheng, and for me, the function of poetry, its innate raison d’être, is to mourn. And in mourning, to point a finger. Look! the poet cries, Look! Look at everything that’s been lost, that we are in the process of losing, that we are throwing away out of ignorance and fear and laziness and greed, the habits we’ve formed over a lifetime and cannot loosen our grasp on even if it kills us.” 
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