beebo wallace
Untitled
If the symbol for original sin weren’t already the apple, I’d wager that the peach would work excellently, what with its beautifully-colored skin that is downy soft to the touch, and the lush, juicy sweetness of its fruit. And this is why, when J. Alfred Prufrock asks “Do I dare to eat a peach?” we know that he probably doesn’t. Dare, that is. Eating a peach is so delightfully, deliciously tactile, so invitingly sensuous, that it feels like a dare, it feels almost wicked. Oh, peaches. Poor J. Alfred.
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