Monday, June 4, 2012

Found Poem T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and Ezra Pound’s “Hugh Selwyn Mauberley”


Let us go then, you and I,
home to old lies and new infamy;
For I have known them all already, known them all:
walked eye-deep in hell

Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;
Capaneus; trout for factitious bait:
Like a patient etherized upon a table;         
Caught in the unstopped ear

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
Subjectively. In the stuffed-satin drawing-room
For I have known them all already, known them all:
laughter out of dead bellies

In the room the women come and go
All things are a flowing,
In a minute there is time
For a botched civilization.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each
At the autopsy, privately performed --
Arose toward Newman as the whiskey warmed
Talking of Michelangelo.

The sky-like limpid eyes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Level across the face
Pinned and wriggling on the wall

Let us go and make our visit
In the cream gilded cabin of his steam yacht
Beside this thoroughfare
Of Pierian roses. 

No comments:

Post a Comment