This post isn't really about Liam Neeson. I'm leaving for Italy in a week and two days. Since being home from Madison, I have watched Taken twice. Currently, I am packing things in my suitcase in descending order of what would be most effective to bludgeon a potential Eastern European sex trafficker with.
now, a lovely poem.
"A thrush in the syringa sings.
‘Hunger ruffles my wings, fear,
lust, familiar things.
Death thrusts hard. My sons
by hawk’s beak, by stones,
trusting weak wings
by cat and weasel, die.
Thunder smothers the sky.
From a shaken bush I
list familiar things,
fear, hunger, lust.’
O gay thrush!"
Basil Bunting
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