September’s poem (and TV show)
T.S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton” (no. 1 of Four Quartets):
We have only three more episodes to view. There will be a hole in my life when we have finished with Wire in the Blood.
Karin has stayed away from this show; but not long ago she did join me in watching a rather anomalous episode, in which the profiler, who lives in Northeast England, travels to Texas to solve a crime. The fish-out-of-water plot reminded me of “Paul Bunyan Goes to Texas”; I wrote that story in the seventh grade.
Garlic and sapphires in the mud / Clot the bedded axle-tree. / The trilling wire in the blood / Sings below inveterate scars / Appeasing long forgotten wars. …Is Samuel too young to watch Wire in the Blood, my favorite serial killer profiling show? Maybe, but it has become our routine: he approaches me when ready to sleep; I change his diaper; we sit together and watch Wire in the Blood until he drifts into unconsciousness.
We have only three more episodes to view. There will be a hole in my life when we have finished with Wire in the Blood.
Karin has stayed away from this show; but not long ago she did join me in watching a rather anomalous episode, in which the profiler, who lives in Northeast England, travels to Texas to solve a crime. The fish-out-of-water plot reminded me of “Paul Bunyan Goes to Texas”; I wrote that story in the seventh grade.