Page 91

By Jack Joseph Smith

I suppose its not strange, that I knew my elbows were spinning long before my brain And the figure eight of the Bat never touched my temple And I knew he knew I trusted in he wouldn't as he made halos into shame I'll leave that, LiNE because the preciseness of the flight was nice I don't know how dangerous a fifteen minute dance can get But the huge ghost had now become many with their eyes closed as I swirled in the center of their round wall It was ok, And I was let to stop like the top of a tired child But The Bat didn't quit the eight, and frankly I was frightened of the windows as I backed out the latch. The next morn I came back and the Bat was gone. And the glass still theatrically dropped from the near ceiling to its sill, with old cracks surE But No NEw holEs thE bliNd Might MAKE do for EscApE or Kill

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

The narrator describes a bat tracing a figure eight while the narrator spins among ghostlike figures. On returning the next morning, the narrator finds the bat gone and glass falling from the windows, then wonders whether blind figures might use holes to escape or kill.

The narrator first trusts the bat's flight, then fears the windows and returns to damaged glass. The handwritten MAKE do revision changes the final phrasing. The source leaves the relation among the bat, ghosts and blind figures open, and the handwriting still needs follow-up.

Claude

A typed bat poem: 'I suppose its not strange, / that I knew my elbows were spinning / long before my brain', a dance with 'the figure eight of the Bat', the next morning 'the Bat was gone.', and a handwritten close 'with old cracks surE / But No NEw holEs / thE bliNd Might MAKE do / for EscApE or Kill'.

The poem treats a frightening night as a dance and ends on the window as a way out.