I punched Holden Caulfield in the face, and he fell heavily
On the ground, ideology oozing out of him
But that did not save Jack.
I went on my way for years and came back to that spot.
Holden was gone, having climbed back into his book,
Where he lives on, dead like Jack.
When in a hotel room near San Marcos in 2010
I heard about Salinger’s death, I cried.
(Not Jack’s Salinger; J. D.)
Wept a lot, broke down actually
for several hours. They were all really dead now,
Franny, Zooey, Holden and Jack.