Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"Birth, and copulation, and death. That’s all the facts when you come to brass tacks:   Birth, and copulation, and death.”* But though he repeated them twice, Those aren’t all the facts when you  come to brass tacks, Eliot left out a line: Somewhere between copulation and death, When you’re well along, but not near   your last breath, You find that the facts when you come to brass tacks are Ice, ibuprofen and time, My friend, Ice, ibuprofen and time.                 *T.S. Eliot, from Sweeney Agonistes.
0
Jan 2, 2025
Jan 2, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
Ice, Ibuprofen and Time
"Birth, and copulation, and death. That’s all the facts when you come to brass tacks:   Birth, and copulation, and death.”* But though he repeated them twice, Those aren’t all the facts when you  come to brass tacks, Eliot left out a line: Somewhere between copulation and death, When you’re well along, but not near   your last breath, You find that the facts when you come to brass tacks are Ice, ibuprofen and time, My friend, Ice, ibuprofen and time.                 *T.S. Eliot, from Sweeney Agonistes.
Written by
77/M/Boston
Jan 2, 2025
Jan 2, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem