Jenna Kober

Ode to Squalor’d Lovers

A Seymourian Sestina; Recitative, for J.D. Salinger i. Jerome David, they taught me, was a poet; semantically, he ain’t, but ink’d lines lie read between snickering sophomoric words within pages:“Fuck” Hold-meta-phon-ory!) Glassy-eyes gloss past; blank’d verse, to me, Beautifully pen’d, in Crayola colour: skin-soul.

ii. Beautiful thing about that kinda soul, Jerome David’s, I mean, to wit, a poet’s; Glass tongued irony, tastes true too, me. Semantics, a syntactic game of lies within an endless, infinite, metaphor Read, us, lovers, his-story behind the words.

iii. Read all the pockmark’d iambs of words, beautiful rhythm, breathing, soulfully, Within lines a cacophonous: metaphor. Jerome David and me, co-breathing poetically, Semantically snort the same lying lines of lies. Glass’ sunlit-shards mirror his air from me.

iv. Within a time, co-ed-ucation finds metaphors . Reading the world, studious, formalist, words; Glass’s now aesthetic; used to see ironic me Beauty, I scoff. I, writer, (lonely) Buddy’s soul. Jerome David,xaa wrote of my mis’form’d eye; poet’s semantics, plaiting around an exquisite lies.

v. Semantics dictated, I wept, tears metaphorically within the space-time where they hear me. “Beautiful voice of a gen-a-cliche-phucking-poet’s;- Glass. Fragments, revealing mere human; words” Reading him esoteric; he, writer, was too, a lonely soul. Jerome David, in restful peace, may you eternally lie.

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Jenna Kober

vi. Jerome David, in this rhetorical analysis, you lie semantically, like a crab; I see-more geometry-metaphor. Reading, now, a brilliant critique of a world’s soul. Within prose pulsating (always) he ink’d me, Glass’d slit skin, like syllabic similes to words, beautifully incandescent. Surely, he was a poet.

*Beautiful metaphors, read poets’ Glass lined-words; within there lies semantic souls of Jerome David, and Me.*

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