I read through what I had written and thoroughly enjoyed it, ha! What I had not made clear is that when Prufrock says, "Let us go," that he really is going to a specific place where women, or a woman, will be present. The first two stanzas reflect his going, through the somewhat dirty streets to the house where the women or woman resides. His interior monologue reveals what he is thinking about as he goes. His primary concern is with the overwhelming question that he refuses to face, and we see how the squalor of the streets, in a sense, presents an argument: if/then. Come on Prufrock, at least think about what your life means in this world. But, no. His advice to himself, so to speak, is no, let us just go and do what we have set out to do, social and or sexual.
I have quoted the first stanza and refrain; here is the second:
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,/The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,/Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,/Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,/Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,/Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,/And seeing that it was a soft October night,/Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
In Carl Sandburg's fog and city poem, the fog creeps in on little cat's feet, as I remember. The cat image is unmistakable here, and the action is contained in one nine-line memorable sentence. Oh My Goodness! Wonderful stanza! The language, catching the languid, sensual movement of a cat on the prowl, is all contained in one beautiful periodic sentence wherein the full meaning is not clear until the final line. The subjects are the "yellow fog" and the "yellow smoke"; following the I's refusal in stanza one, both images suggest the inability to see clearly. The "you," thus reflecting Prufrock's emotional, physical aspect, responds to the "I" in kind. Prufrock has gone through the streets, he has arrived at a house, and as the "I" will not think about his situation, the emotional side of his nature, the "you" shuts down too. If love is not real, there is no need to be awake here. And so, the "I" is awake and thinking while the "you" is asleep and what, dreaming? Possibly. We shall see.
In any case, having refused to face the question in stanza one, the "eye" now attempts to justify his attitude (I think), his refusal. After all, there will be time later to think about these things, and the things included in the next stanza are important too, especially if we are putting ourselves, if I am putting myself into a social situation.
"And indeed there will be time/For the yellow smoke that slides along the street/Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;/There will be time, there will be time/To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;/There will be time to murder and create,/And time for all the works and days of hands/That lift and drop a question on your plate;/Time for you and time for me,/And time yet for a hundred indecisions, /And for a hundred visions and revisions,/Before the taking of a toast and tea."
And then the refrain is repeated, suggesting that we have indeed arrived where we were going:
"In the room the women come and go/Talking of Michelangelo."