Page 264

By Jack Joseph Smith

The big hunk I did not turn and walk across the bay I stayed on the dock Lights out the slightest of the Moon Seals heads over the plank They knew they were at home Getting old divers and Vietnam warroe's They were good at fishing two weeks out of six Long linging and drag drawing Cared little as far as I could tell And they take the stero can shinning from the movie star cigarettes in their mouths And drop a one by one hungkof herion on top Not to mention that I had been drinking expensive Oregon beer for two day streight,

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

Staying on the dock becomes an immersion in seals, divers, Vietnam warroe's, fishing routines, herion, cigarettes, and two days of Oregon beer.

The seals know they are at home, and that certainty throws the human figures into relief as older, rougher creatures only partly at home in themselves. Divers, fishing work, stero cans, cigarettes, and herion all sit in the same field without moral sorting. The speaker's expensive Oregon beer does not elevate him above the scene; it folds him deeper into the drift, while unplaceable marginal fragments remain omitted.

Claude

Further 'big hunk' variant: seals' heads over the plank at home; old divers and Vietnam warriors fishing two weeks of six; they drop heroin onto their movie-star cigarettes; he has been drinking expensive Oregon beer for two days straight.