Page 60

By Jack Joseph Smith

Getting to twentyone after Twenty two The long blond prostitute in chicago Black lace and skinny big bones Eyes like unprotected windows - swinging - open-on the south side of the moon Canadian whiskey and she was thirty-two And green her soul was green as her eyes All over her insides -- soft, moist, like moss, Like clover that is streight, and proud -- wants to get going - wants to walk - high Like oh my good God darling - chin never turning on the street - sucker punching who she loved in soft cheese taverns -- When we were finished at fourteen flights up - she lit a cigar and put a circle on My thiegh I never felt and will never

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

This page sketches a vivid, rough-edged woman in Chicago through class markers, bodily imagery, alcohol, desire, and street danger.

The speaker describes black lace and compares the woman's insides to moss. In the image of her eyes as open windows, the speaker places them on the south side of the moon. After the encounter fourteen flights up, the woman lights a cigar and puts a circle on the speaker's thiegh.

Claude

Under the title 'Getting to twentyone after Twenty two', the speaker remembers 'The long blond prostitute in chicago' in 'Black lace and skinny big bones', with 'Eyes like unprotected windows', Canadian whiskey, and a soul 'green as her eyes'. After they finish 'at fourteen flights / up', she lights a cigar and puts 'a circle on / My thiegh I never felt and will never', a sentence that runs onto the next page.

The draft builds its portrait by piling up dash-linked images that mix tenderness ('soft, moist, like moss') with street violence ('sucker punching'). The title frames the encounter as a passage between ages, and the cigar circle he 'never felt' makes the memory physical and lasting.