The Voice of the Poet - T.S. Eliot Well, I guess I'm supposed to be more impressed than I am. Eliot is considered one of the greats. I have a hard time, though, enjoying poetry that seems to be intentionally impenetrable. If I need experts and critics to explain it to me, it doesn't feel much like poetry. Give me some good old Robert Frost---accessible, clear, beautiful representations of ordinary life and the natural world. I know The Wasteland is considered Eliot's enduring masterpiece, but I thought East Coker from Four Quartets was more compelling and had more beautiful language. There is one snippet from The Wasteland that really spoke to me, though, because it was such a perfect description of some parts of Southern Utah. (Not the author's intention, but hey, it works.) "A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. OnlyThere is shadow under this red rock...