Prufrock

“Let us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread against the sky/ like a patient etherized upon a table. Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets./ the muttering retreats/ of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels/ and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells/ streets that follow like a tedious argument/ of insidious intent/ to lead you to an overwhelming question.../ Oh, do you not ask, "what is it?"/ let us go and make our visit.”