This is fun.

In the spirit of Science, by Robert Kelly, I began by measuring and describing this poem. It consists of forty-nine words divided by nine lines. As such, it is the size of a poem containing forty-nine words in nine lines. Upon further examination, I determined that this poem concerns science, religion, cats, baskets, poetry and the moon.

One difference between poetry and science is that I can declare that I like this poem, but it would seem silly to say something like man oh man I sure do like that string theory. And I do like this poem. I don’t agree that the first line is silly. I agree that it sounds silly, and I believe that it does so deliberately in order to immediately challenge our notion of science. I think Whitman in his poem also concluded that science explained nothing, and so he was left to look up at the stars and make sense of it on his own. To him the night air was not proofs and figures; it was mystical. The observations of the observable world don’t help us answer questions like why. That’s left for mysticism or philosophy or plain old wondering.

I like the contrast of science of religion. I tend to equate science with religion, rather than science with poetry, so this poem challenged that view. I'm interested in the idea that we often take the observations of science on faith. There is faith in science just as there is faith in the supernatural. In religion faith is the evidence of things not seen, while in science faith is the evidence of things not understood (string theory?) In a way, this poem debunks that idea. No point in having faith in science because science explains nothing.

I also like the metaphor of science and poetry as baskets holding things together. In taxonomy, ocelots go into a basket with jaguars, the coatimundi in with the raccoon. In poetry fourth grade boys share a basket with monks, and poetry one with science. But I think what is most appealing about the poem Science is its vision of poetry. Poetry describes the world with words better than science, but leaves it to us to understand it.

Still, as much as I like it, one item bothers and another intrigues.

The bother. Who is the “he” who said science is a basket and a cat is as big as a cat? Why does it matter that the poet is indirectly quoting some unseen philosopher of science and poetry? Why can’t it just be the poet’s own idea? It might as well be his because he doesn’t refute it. Does he toss in “he said” merely to even out the line?

The mystery. Why, of all things, a cat and the moon? As objects to be measured and described, these two work. Is there a reason why it’s a cat and the moon instead of, say, a cat and a fiddle, a cow and the moon, or an ocelot and a quark?