Poem of the day

In the Desert, by Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter---bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

Why do I love Prufrock so?

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.