Shotify - Prufrock

So this week, we decided to reinterpret in Word-ka Shots a brilliant work of poetry called 'The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock' by T.S. Eliot. If you haven't already read the poem, read it here. Then scroll down to see what we did with it.

(Photo via tumblr.com)

	the voices asked me if i dared; my return from hell was a question because hell was love  and longing and my mind- swallowed  fog and smoke and sea to fill the void within me but i shrunk with every revision because the thoughts i chose to keep were ones  that killed me.  -Jason		rescue me from the swirling depths of what i meant (a seashell) and what they saw (clams) and what you heard, (dinner) so I may finally ask you this overwhelming question. -Nikita

The Shot-o-holics

Seven

When we received this shot suggestion from our reader Sukanya, we were quite intrigued and equally stumped . Having never really been good with numbers,  we leave you to do the math and see if things add up.

Each time () he loves me  A petal falls he loves () me not  I say a prayer () he loves me  And hold my breath he loves me not () Then thank my stars () he loves me  That this flower he loves me () not  Has just enough () he loves me.                  - Jason

He sits back        in His armchair        in a straw hat maybe,        smokes a Cuban cigar        and smiles        down at His art.        this is His last holiday        before Fall.                                                                   -Nikita

Break

                              Photo taken on 15 February 2009 (© Bindaas Madhavi / Flickr)

She taught me        how hearts         lose their virginity,       'They break to grow'.                      - Jason

This modern world        and its eggshell loves:        our hearts have been served,        burnt to a crisp,        fried on griddles,        with ketchup smiles,        sunny side up.                  -Nikita