Gordon Brown is having a bad week. Make that last few weeks. He bottled the election, and then has continued to be weak, indecisive, and rudderless - from the environment, to the Olympics, to any number of things. The talk, in this weekend's UK press, is that the contest may already be on to suceed him. One hopes so. Labour is doomed under this dour dot. Meanwhile, Mr. Mugabe has managed to coin one of the funniest insults ever in political history, even while managing to ruin a whole nation. Calling Gordon Brown a "tiny dot on this planet" was funny - but mainly weird. Mugabe's priceless fist-gesture was part of the impact of the taunt, which was a direct hit on Brown's already scuppered-vessel.
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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