Shall I Say, I Have Gone At Dusk Through Narrow Streets
And Watched The Smoke That Rises From The Pipes
Of Lonely Men In Shirt-sleeves, Leaning Out Of Windows?
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?...
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
-- T. S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"
