Page 232

By Jack Joseph Smith

Sir; Welcome Home I say give the officer a poem when plunging not easy to leave the ends of the Earth nice fror those doing math back in the classroom There we are thinking how terific a sheet to sail and tack of jib would be for I know you can see the beams of stars beneath thw sea,, quick and gone through core to pick up molten and shatter the other side for it is difficult to say she as a ship when there is no tit or coming leaf to spend and when I went under seconds shined not sun for time be better then my mind with love that away went up and stay with that I go down and I am alone lost as a shell powerful as as the last speck on Earth as I say do not let it change me

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

"Sir; Welcome Home" folds poem-making, an officer, classroom math, sails, stars beneath the sea, and shell-like loneliness into a homecoming that asks not to be changed.

The corrected transcript clarifies the maritime pressure of the page. Home is named in the title, but the body keeps moving undersea and away from ordinary stability, so welcome and alienation remain entangled.

Claude

Sir, Welcome Home. Give the officer a poem when plunging. Thinking how terrific a sheet to sail and tack of jib would be. Beams of stars beneath the seas. Difficult to say she as a ship when there is no tit or coming leaf to spend. When I went under, seconds shined not sun. A shell powerful as the last speck on Earth — do not let it change me.