122| Poetic License: An Ode to Holden Caulfield

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In Mr. Feeny's class, Zoey's chin was settled on the palm of her hand as she listened to Mr. Feeny read out the poems that he assigned the class to do.

"Next, this next poem is quiet special." Mr. Feeny told the class. "The manner in which the poet expresses emotions is truly eloquent. The piece is entitled 'An Unpublished Manuscript for J.D. Salinger'."

"Nappy time." Cory whispered to Shawn, sliding down into his chair.

"'It is possible to assassinate my heroes with the scope of my individualism. However, by their own persistence's to themselves, I believe that they have chosen me to pursue a self. What is literature but the illumination of that which I should write? Salinger speaks through me, to me. Whispers 'where to, little boy?' My answer is the dogged pen to page which lights consistently the pathway home. It is on that road that I alone can trip my way back to myself'." Mr. Feeny read aloud to the class.

"Aw, come on!" Cory whined.

"Would you care to analyze this poem, Mr. Matthews?" Mr. Feeny wondered.

"Yeah, I'll take a stab." Cory said as he stood up.

"Stab away." Mr. Feeny insisted.

"Ya call that poetry? Feh! And all right already with this J.D. Salinger thing. I mean, hello! Name dropping! And haven't we had just about enough of Catcher in the Rye? I mean, what's he written lately? Am I right?" Cory ranted.

Zoey covered her face with her hand from second-hand embarrassment. Cory didn't even understand what the poem was about and he immediately felt the need to say his own opinion.

Mr. Feeny sighed. "Well, on that note, we will have to pick this up at our next session."

The class then began to file out of the classroom.

"Cory, you're nuts." Zoey told him, giving him a pointed look. "That poem was so incredible. It was beautiful."

"I can't believe someone our own age wrote that." Topanga said.

"Someone like Mr. Hunter?" Mr. Feeny asked as he handed the paper back to Shawn.

"What?" Cory questioned in confusion.

"Yeah, I wrote that poem." Shawn admitted.

"I knew it." Zoey muttered.

"I liked it." Cory commented quickly.

"Do you have any more poems?" Mr. Feeny wondered.

"I wouldn't really call them poems." Shawn told him hesitantly. "I just write stuff down. I've been doing it since I can remember."

"I can't believe you never told me." Zoey said, surprised.

"I can't believe you never told me." Cory added.

"I never told anyone okay? I just do it for myself to get my feelings out." Shawn explained.

Zoey watched as Shawn stood and made his way to the door only to be stopped by Mr. Feeny.

"Shawn, I host poetry readings at the Student Union Friday evenings." Mr. Feeny informed. "If you would feel comfortable sharing some of your...."

"I don't know, Mr. Feeny." Shawn said truthfully. "It's..."

"That sounds awesome." Cory answered on Shawn's belief as he joined his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Perhaps I could read some of my poems too."

"You have poems?" Mr. Feeny asked.

"Well, I wouldn't call them poems. I just... I just sort of write stuff down." Cory repeated his best friend's words.

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