“Now we come to discover that the moments of agony...are likewise permanent with such permanence as time has...Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination - -We had the experience but missed the meaning.” - from “The Dry Salvages” by T.S. Eliot <br /> <br />3 <br /> <br />The Drying Assuages <br /> <br />“And all is vanity amongst these my ruins, ” <br /> <br />says Sweeney, whoever he may be, <br />tidies up neurotically, gin on the breath <br />for he is bored unto death but awaits daily <br />the post for possible liberty which he took <br />once on the mooch with a wealthy dowager who <br />mistook him for someone else. The scar forever <br />reminds of dumb lusts and dumber luck never <br />dreaming she was a black belt, his teeth, <br />now cracked, remind him to “be mindful of <br />the good against all wants” so sitz he the <br />wiser, chaste, a slack-jawed wastrel, piles <br />cooling upon cool stones, in ruins reading <br />Sam Beckett but that is another story written <br />in stars Centauric, to wit <br /> <br />qua qua qua <br />sisk boom ba <br />twixt Fucquaad
