Page 34

By Jack Joseph Smith

Up the road they would wander. The Pacific Coast in nine- teen sixty two. This is where the kin of life left THE lives THAT dream. There was a horror in those young days, drunk alaways, yet sober as hell. Young broken dreams already made open eyes. Lingered AT a stone's throw, ownErsHiP power was so in- ward. There was so much money that passsing through it was not a sin. Backgrounds rich and real poor; we took nothing. And swift as sails done ramparts we did rise; although crack- ing along the shore, there was a departure, of life's song, meaning nothing. And sorry for the remembering is the great quilts left behind, laid out like fodder and hardly did we snap. It was young and the way to be strong was to be away. My skirt was a jesuit joy his an ash. There was no death; as parents were a stream. DAVid MiKE BROWN

Original Scan

Page 34

AI Interpretation

GPT

The narrator recalls wandering the Pacific Coast in 1962 amid drinking, money and broken dreams. Departure, quilts left behind and the need to be away accompany the memories.

The narrator recalls rich and poor backgrounds while saying the group took nothing. My skirt, jesuit joy, ash and parents in a stream remain incomplete images; the page does not fix the speaker's identity.

Claude

A typed prose poem recalls 'The Pacific Coast in nine-' 'teen sixty two', a time 'drunk alaways, / yet sober as hell', and ends 'My skirt was a jesuit joy his an ash.' Faint handwritten names follow.

The passage is elegiac about youth, money and departure, and its speaker is not identified. The names at the foot of the page are not explained.