“it’s precisely in cadence that Eliot’s work survives”

Undead Eliot: How “The Waste Land” Sounds Now

By Lesley Wheeler

Poetry Magazine

Originally published: September 2nd, 2014

From cadence to cadence we proceed:

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Because I do not hope to turn again

Because I do not hope

Because I do not hope to turn

Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope

Time present and time past

Are both perhaps present in time future,

And time future contained in time past.