Wednesday, June 27, 2007

For My Daughter

In keeping with the weary cynicism of my last post, I thought I'd read for you one of my favourite poems of negativity: "For My Daughter" by the enigmatic American poet Weldon Kees. There are few closing couplets more devastating in all of sonnetry.



Brenda Schmidt said...

Ok. I promise not to be a chronic commenter. But oh my. What an incredible poem.

Ian LeTournea said...

Agreed. Just ordered it through interlibrary loans.

rob taylor said...


Anonymous said...

After "For My Daughter" by Weldon Kees

Not meant as antidote; but puzzlement. With no children

there's no authority, no experience; denied,

I think your fictional fatherhood akin to stunt propagan-

da. Why not just smother her effigy, then suicide?

That your daughter would grow up to be human

is obvious, and the objective; not venal

to love and grow and fail, to be a woman;

in your poem, virtue's repealed; a penal

colony for what's best in her. But what's best in you?

Where would you lead her, what would you do,

how would you fail, inject the venal into her veins,

or perhaps, against type, you'd slay fear, and, slain,

she'd bounce upon your knee, with laughter.

But perhaps it is better you were never her father.