Day/Poem #6: T.S. Eliot

Of course, I would love to give you all a little taste of The Waste Land. But also, of course, that would be much too much and much too long, here at this time. Maybe towards the end of the month...?! So, instead, another piece by Eliot, this one much shorter but just as well written, and still one of my favorites. How could I post poems for Poetry Month without including something by Eliot?

HYSTERIA

As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her

laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were only 

accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I was drawn in

by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost

finally in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by the ripple

of unseen muscles. An elderly waiter with trembling hands

was hurriedly spreading a pink and white checked cloth over

the rusty green iron table, saying: "If the lady and gentleman

wish to take their tea in the garden, if the lady and 

gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden..." I decided 

that if the shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of

the fragments of the afternoon might be collected, and I 

concentrated my attention with careful subtlety to this end.