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…