Page 313
By Jack Joseph Smith
By Jack Joseph Smith
Original Scan
AI Interpretation
Time watches like a wrist-checking force while Paris, the Middle East, rent, paint, bullets, and guns collapse history into a close, sloping viewpoint.
The poem begins with cosmic scale, street moon against desert sun, then reduces everything to the pressure of a single viewpoint. Paris and the Middle East share one line of sight, which makes private living and geopolitical violence feel horribly adjacent. Paying rent, painting the door, getting bullets, then the gun, turns catastrophe into a slope rather than a mountain, something gradual, wearable, and close as clothes.
Time watching its wrist against street moon or desert sun; no sorrow in this view of the end. Paris, iron gate, watching the Middle East; 'pay the rent, then paint the door; get the bullits, then get the gum, it is a slope, isn't it, not a mountain / Not a pretence, close as clothes.'