“Elegy of J. Alfred Prufrock” by Jack Merrywell


i've seen the beast,
of that i know
that no death can measure
by coffee spoons

there is a place yet
i'd like to go,
where no one speaks
of michelangelo

wandering (Nowhere)
i came upon a man
drowning in filth,
lethargically awaiting
his own end of time

piercing yellowgray eyes
grasping at my coat,
pleading "mercy, sir, mercy?"
but i walked along
and i walked along

i only walked along

down the road, then,
a proud man stood,
a titan (full of the life
that lies beyond my door)

two creatures,
worlds apart
(so painfully distant)

but which of these was Prufrock
and which was michelangelo?