Love song of Prufrock


“The yellow fog that rubs

its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs

its muzzle on the window-panes,

Licked its tongue

into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools

that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back

the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace,

made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was

a soft October night,

Curled once about the house,

and fell asleep. . .”

Listening to his liberties, talking to cats on hedge, on ledge, on wall. Reaching for paws that flip as they fall.