Page 227
By Jack Joseph Smith
By Jack Joseph Smith
Original Scan
AI Interpretation
Between family catastrophe, a tree house on the Oregon coast, and science as discovery and repair, the son grows into someone bent on unfamiliar ground.
Mother and father catastrophe is not background color; it is part of the terrain alongside tree house, family shack, and Oregon cliffs. The page measures the boy's rootedness against the globe, science, and work that needs repair, suggesting a mind and body moving outward from origin. The handwritten BEFORE/AFTER/YET sequence intensifies the contrast between unfamiliar places and differing missions.
The poem locates a son's early life inside family strain and shelter, 'amist mother and father catastophe / At elever and twelve,' living 'Im a tree house, inclave, and family shack' along 'the cliffs / of the Oregon coast,' and insisting 'he was not after something else.' Grown, he engages the world bodily and mentally at once, 'with his mind and his feet as well,' aided by 'Rough SAINTS & Through' and by science that 'pushes and puts his art / as part of the globe / in need of discovery / and repair.' The page allows for change over time while affirming continuity of purpose across 'BEFORE,' 'AFTER,' and 'YET his excitement at being.'