Wednesday, May 7, 2008

An Elegy for J. Alfred Prufrock.

As we know, the five of us,
J. Alfred was a private man.
We know of course what he wanted to be,
But how was he before the tricks began?
Did we all simply get to know
What had been measured out in spoons?
Did we all simply see the show,
He put on to make the ladies swoon?
But of course they never did,
And of course he always tried again.
Despite their lack of quality within,
Their shining wrists attracted him.
And now we know his bald spot was
Actually atop his head,
For all this time the common buzz
Was that it was below his skin.
As we lay him down to rest
With sawdust on his feet,
I cannot help but recall
What he once said to me:
He said, “You know I always thought,
I could just change one day,
I can be whomever I want,
The person I wish to convey”.
I told him, “J., do you not know?
They see right through your lies!”
And now you know what happens next:
After a deep sigh, he dies.

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Miami, Florida, United States