This was a bar conversation recommendation a couple nights ago, and since it took less than an hour to consume, I went ahead and knocked it out. One of Eliot’s more whimsical poems, or collection of poems, written as letters to his godchildren. These were the poems that formed the basis of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical Cats, which I admit I have never actually seen. Spotify has an audio version of these poems read by Eliot, and that is how I read this one. It was short enough and just idiosyncratic enough to keep me listening, but I’m not sure I needed any more when it was over.