Page 32

By Jack Joseph Smith

Torrent of the parapit The last sight of my rail We will eat the sea tonight With the God damn black God A scrub and a bouy and a nail off my thumb While we enjoy these billows bursting like plums To big to be squid fine enough to be beads We can strip motor or sail and spend it all He says seas cross all the time And here they come pretending to be cayotes Like poets in general they are unbelievable How long has it been incidently since anyone had hard liquor when a main sail went down sink man In a different now, maybe made, maybe a hole Yet God is hooked again alright! we are not in a dream while we know we are dreaming, for he would never accept forlorn even in a farmtown Born with slaughter it is harder to wake

Original Scan

Page 32

AI Interpretation

GPT

The page pushes through parapit, rail, sea, a black God, billows, beads, sea-crossing, hard liquor, dreaming, forlornness, and slaughter-born waking.

The corrected typed body reads as a late sea-run reprise of earlier motifs. The large handwritten overlay suggests a revision layer that may redirect the opening, so the page remains follow-up rather than final.

Claude

A long sea-run stanza folding page 21's hawks-as-coyotes material into a capstone: God 'hooked again alright,' dreaming while knowing we dream, slaughter-born and harder to wake.