The history of the decade begun in September, 2001, has come to a strange and unexpected sort of conclusion today. Waking to history, I was confronted with the death of the most famous enemy of America. The cheers at the death of a human - slightly vulgar - shocked me, but I also felt a curious elation at knowing that Obama had achieved what Bush did not - and some sense of closure. Unfortunately, ripples of violence seem likely - terrorism is complex, despite its seemingly simplistic message. Still, this day, May 2, 2011, is historic.
THAT HANDSOME MAN A PERSONAL BRIEF REVIEW BY TODD SWIFT I could lie and claim Larkin, Yeats , or Dylan Thomas most excited me as a young poet, or even Pound or FT Prince - but the truth be told, it was Thom Gunn I first and most loved when I was young. Precisely, I fell in love with his first two collections, written under a formalist, Elizabethan ( Fulke Greville mainly), Yvor Winters triad of influences - uniquely fused with an interest in homerotica, pop culture ( Brando, Elvis , motorcycles). His best poem 'On The Move' is oddly presented here without the quote that began it usually - Man, you gotta go - which I loved. Gunn was - and remains - so thrilling, to me at least, because so odd. His elegance, poise, and intelligence is all about display, about surface - but the surface of a panther, who ripples with strength beneath the skin. With Gunn, you dressed to have sex. Or so I thought. Because I was queer (I maintain the right to lay claim to that
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I fell asleep listening to the World Service. When I awoke, I thought that Henry Cooper had been hunted down and killed and Osama/Obama had been declared undisputed heavyweight champion of the world.
Best wishes from Simon