Ice cubes clink into the last cut glass.
Pass the cards to your right.
This hand will last into the memory of this night.
heat spreading from his loins.
where it ends, she cannot see.
comes to rest on wailing sands.
blinded by the brilliance of his own blade.
into a sea of silent screams.
This is the poem that fills the gap for September 11th 2010. Haven't heard anything, so I guess Gillian Clarke didn't think much of it!