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By Jack Joseph Smith

Song Will you ever walk with me, when we are still A change, will you go through REAL with me If I lifted a wing, to have a wing to lift Would I be felled with sorrow The other to give to you Two roads against the middle; Death the Proud Brother Let us literature find a song in hurt Work as if it was still a world See if you can stand back and touch the sound Just to see across things makes you asunder Beneath you worry and then make your way in You sing, first as a bird that is leaving The wiries in the city, the dynasitystops, when you haven't sung along To have Paris and an harmonica and subtle too All along I asertain my mouth from American Indian reservation, knowing when grander is SWEET, it is The SAME

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

The speaker asks for companionship through change, sorrow, song and distant places.

Walking and a shared wing introduce the plea. Death, literature and the city's wires interrupt it before Paris and an American Indian reservation broaden the route. The closing SWEET and SAME name continuity; the marginal For / You lacks a settled place in the reading.

Claude

'Song' opens as a plea for company through change: 'Will you ever walk with me, when we are still / A change, will you go through REAL with me', then weighs sorrow, 'Two roads against the middle;' and 'Death the Proud Brother'. It urges 'Let us literature find a song in hurt', follows the singer 'first as a bird that is leaving / The wiries in the city', through 'Paris and an harmonica' and an 'American / Indian reservation', and ends in handwriting: 'knowing when grander is / SWEET, it is / The SAME'.

The poem ties companionship to song, treating hurt, distance and death as material to be sung rather than escaped. Its lines move by association and odd compound words ('dynasitystops', 'asertain'), which gives it an improvised, spoken rhythm. The handwritten close levels the grand and the sweet into sameness, a quiet resolution after the sprawling journey.