This is a love song, and I believe that Alfred Prufrock was expressing what he whishes he could be for himself. These are all images of what he would like to see in his life. Prufrock has laid out his life, and “knows the evenings, mornings and afternoons”. All of them boring to him. So he writes a revision to such a plain life that he is leading. The poem resembles a dream. His fantasy of his life. This fantasy is really what he is in love with; the wanting to have another more exciting, attractive life.
Posted by KristenZappalla at February 26, 2005 07:51 PM