A Voice Without Volume

By Jack Joseph Smith

Not the lack thereof But the absence of my actor's skill For this brain And the throat I will stop the hammer I will deflect the axe Fast this stone heart did fall Surely same the speed did drop the pearl Which would change nothing all the while If you tried to kick more dirt in her face She would grow
However now, no gavel coming down For you to grieve your sidewinder misdeeds Props of any kind forbidden in this theatre A wider more respectable visual had many appearing from underground As was reflected the generic in the you Even though at first your enterance into a thousand castles and shacks seemed no more than irresponsible Here is where I am No matter where that is All along with the alone At the end of the line Connected only to vision
Where beach walkers notice The horizon is a place Where everything grinds to a silent slowness Coming to rest You can see it Settling under the Sun Across the distant spread of the sea

Original Scan

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Page 68

AI Interpretation

GPT

A speaker describes absent actor's skill, resisted injury and growth, then moves through a theatre without props toward solitary vision and a quiet sea horizon.

The changes of setting move from hammer and axe to a gavel that does not descend, and finally to things coming to rest. The unnamed her and the generic in the you remain unresolved rather than being assigned fixed identities.

Claude

The speaker names 'the absence of / my actor's skill', vows 'I will stop the hammer / I will deflect the axe', and says of an unnamed 'She' that if you kicked more dirt in her face 'She would grow'. With 'Props of any kind forbidden / in this theatre', the speaker ends 'At the end of the line / Connected only to vision', watching the horizon where 'everything grinds / to a silent slowness'.

A voice without performance is paired with plain first-person resolve, and theatre language runs through a meditation on judgment and belonging. The poem ends quiet and visual, slowing to match the horizon.