Prufrock's Petulance
A Seditious Sonnet
"I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me."
“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot, 1915
While the mermaids have ceased to sing for me
Short years ago, I heard their lovely song
What kind of whiny ingrate would I be
To resent that they have bid me so long?
Too quickly did the modern soul complain
If we postmodern folk have souls, they too
An obstinate solipsism maintain:
"Only for me can things be good or true!"
Magical songs for others are mere noise
My ear alone is worthy of their notes
This surly petulance good sense annoys
What ugly ingratitude it denotes
That mermaids sing at all should be enough
To drown our complaints, in seas calm or rough
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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