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By Jack Joseph Smith

The rainbow this is The Cornora of the Moon Delicious in blackness Maybe rainy,. you got electric Hey Sun and Moon It is tough writing about them both at the same time The ends of the Earth, she went for the interior,, like a scared and blond Indian,. she just stayed Mohawk would be vicious enough,. she sticks,. cause they don't have any kids left I know there is no such thing as a saint that was not,, in some way, a part of a cult

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

Sun, moon, rain, electricity, tribal memory, and sainthood all crowd together around a woman who chooses the interior and stays there.

The poem admits that holding sun and moon in the same frame is difficult, which is exactly why the figure at its center matters. She is imagined through harsh and luminous identities at once, never purely blessed and never merely romantic. The final claim that every saint belongs in some way to a cult strips holiness of innocence and leaves devotion looking dangerous.

Claude

The rainbow is the Corona of the Moon, delicious in blackness. Closes with no saint that was not in some way a part of a cult.