Mr. Bolt is now one of the great, and most thrilling, Olympians - so it seems odd that the Olympics boss has chastised him for being too showy on the track. A bit like, yes, trying to keep lightning in a bottle, or accusing Mozart of using too many notes. While the world cheered, apparently, this dour pencil-pusher fumed. Anyway, given the overblown spectacle of the Olympics opening ceremonies, it seems like a Kubrick "war room" paradox to ask the great Jamaican sprinter to slow his antics down to a mediocre pace. So long as he respects the other competitors, he should be allowed to strut his stuff after crossing the finishing line - I suppose what galls the official is that Bolt is the first man in history to actually celebrate while competing, and still win.
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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