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A Strange Telephone Conversation with Jen
Number 6 of
THE JENNIFER POEMS
“Be that Miss Jen?” shuddered my voice.
Oh Eros, for three barren year I have waited.
“Alloo,” came from the other end, soft , softer
Pulling my very heart from my enfeebled chest.
That voice, the fuel of my hitherto dying soul;
Voice of Jen.
If by the hand of providence
I was at that moment fossilized,
An eternal smile be on that face registered
So that the world be told I loved her true.
Permit reader to tell thee what so troubled a voiced plodded-
I implore thee listener to hold those hearts like men
For no worse pestilence, no worse dissatisfaction
Had I before felt when that voice quivered in resignation.
“Gerald, no human in this world
Will point to me as a friend-
I have none save fiends and pestilence.
No family at my call.
I have lived in a world of gloom and deceit.
Oh Gerald, if my very pain be understood.
And Jen resolved to exhume for my ears
That self-pity and doom of those gloomier years…
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