It has been five years since that shocking, terrible day in London - which began around now, as commuters headed to work - now called 7/7 - when bombers took many lives, and ground London to a halt. The day before London had been awarded the 2012 Olympic Games. I remember thinking - London will never recover. But I was new to London, and didn't yet realise that its fabled "Blitz spirit" was genuinely present. Or rather, people just got on with it - walking home, walking to work. But people died. The tube and buses became, symbolically, more deadly (for awhile); and an innocent man was soon afterwards shot dead in public. There has been no successful terrorist attack in England since then. Were lessons learned? Is the war in Afghanistan working? Londoners don't fear for their safety these days. Five years is a long time. Yet, families, friends, loved ones, remain permanently changed by July 7, 2005. We must spare them a thought, now and in future.
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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