Page 235
By Jack Joseph Smith
By Jack Joseph Smith
Original Scan
AI Interpretation
"Sight" frames thought and language as gain, then moves through city eyes, an Oregon long-lining boat, cruise-ship spectators, shouted deck orders, and handwritten threats or stage-like annotations.
The handwritten additions make the page feel interrupted by another voice, especially around the deck scene. Sight becomes something gained through exposure, labor, humiliation, and the strange public theater of being watched.
'Sight' reframes mental noise as wealth - 'Ten thousand tongues and thoughts is not my loss / It is my gain the stream of trouble through the brain' - and gives a hard rule for the street: 'Just look at the eyes that walk away / Make them feel sorry that you are not frightened.' The poem drops into a fishing scene off Oregon, 'on a Cod long linging / boat with Otis the Captain and Don the mate,' where an 'Alaskian Cruze ship' passes 'gilted with waving hands.' The speaker's 'hey come see this' is met by Otis's bark - 'don't you ever get off' the deck - and Don's dry forecast, 'oh he'll be / down to eat allright.' The handwritten interruptions 'THE KNIFEMAN' and 'SPIES OUT ON THE FLOOR' break across the deck talk like a second, theatrical voice. The close turns to self-erasure: 'I put a seat up to wood with pulp and pen / And become nothing that works.' This reading stays provisional: the page is reviewed-with-handwriting-ambiguity and 'SPIES OUT ON THE FLOOR' is recorded only as the best reading. Kept spellings 'linging,' 'Alaskian,' 'Cruze,' and 'gilted' are preserved.