My favorite poem, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” turns 100 this month. I first read T.S. Eliot in the spring of 2004 (my second semester at Northern Michigan University) and recall that I did not think much of him until Austin Hummell, subbing for Mark Smith (the instructor of record), invited the class …

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XLVII. “On a terribly clear day…”translated by Edwin Honig and Susan M. Brown On a terribly clear day,A day that made you wish you’d worked very hardSo you’d not work at all that day,I caught a glimpse, like a road through the trees,Of what might after all be the Big Secret,That Great Mystery crooked poets …

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Morning Song Love set you going like a fat gold watch.The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cryTook its place among the elements. Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.In a draft museum, your nakednessShadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls. I’m no more you motherThan the cloud that distils a …

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