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One of the poets I am most looking forward to listening to at the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival in November is Thomas Lux.I first became aware of ‘The People of the Other Village’ after I was sent a tape of his performance -tender, wry, furious- at Aldeburgh in 2000. You can listen to him reading it here.

Sometimes a poem comes into your life and you know straight away what it is about, the history and grief of its context matching so perfectly to the otherness of its diction that it becomes at once absolutely right both for now and all time.

‘The People of the Other Village’ is one of those poems. There is not a morning, recently, when I haven’t woken up to the news and thought of it. No other explanations seem necessary.

The People of the Other Village

hate the people of this village
and would nail our hats
to our heads for refusing in their presence to remove them
or staple our hands to our foreheads
for refusing to salute them
if we did not hurt them first: mail them packages of rats,
mix their flour at night with broken glass.
We do this, they do that.
They peel the larynx from one of our brothers’ throats.
We de-vein one of their sisters.
The quicksand pits they built were good.
Our amputation teams were better.
We trained some birds to steal their wheat.
They sent to us exploding ambassadors of peace.
They do this, we do that.
We canceled our sheep imports.
They no longer bought our blankets.
We mocked their greatest poet
and when that had no effect
we parodied the way they dance
which did cause pain, so they, in turn, said our God
was leprous, hairless.
We do this, they do that.
Ten thousand (10,000) years, ten thousand
(10,000) brutal, beautiful years.

Thomas Lux, from New and Selected Poems: 1975-1995

You can pre-order Lux’s new Selected Poems (Bloodaxe, 2014) here