Untitled ("We never took pigs off on the yard arms")

By Jack Joseph Smith

We never took pigs off on the yard arms but I would do a machitte at this point I have seen them alive across the sky They would over and over say fresh blood makes that meat the best So don't we know them They just think killing is better for your farm I take my short skirt and stand in front of the fan in my solitary room in my solitary room is not a wind But the air dosent the air is not a wind blow me to him It does not blow me to him it just raps me down It justs raps me around I feel sorry for the negro's and round and down they have lost their music And I have lost my music too

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

The speaker discusses pigs, killing and fresh blood, then stands in a solitary room before a fan. Two printed variants describe air that cannot move the speaker toward someone, before the speaker speaks of lost music.

The right column revises the fan passage without establishing a second speaker. The closing comparison attributes a loss of music to a group and to the speaker; it is the poem's language, not a verified claim about a people.

Claude

The poem says 'We never took pigs off on the yard arms / but I would do a machitte at this point', stands 'in front of the fan / in my solitary room', and sets two typed versions side by side, 'it just raps me down' and 'It justs raps me around / and round and down', ending 'And I have lost my music too'.

Farm killing, a lonely room and a lost music frame the poem, and the poem keeps, in a right-hand column, an alternate typed version. The remark about 'the negro's' is the speaker's language and is kept without endorsement.