Page 33
By Jack Joseph Smith
By Jack Joseph Smith
Original Scan
AI Interpretation
Isolation, despair, and cosmic spectacle meet in a voice that hears life as disaster and still insists that color and art belong to human making.
The first lines strip the speaker nearly bare, denying even the stable possession of a soul. Yet the poem does not stay in negation; it turns toward a fabricated blue and claims that invention itself carries authority. The last assertion is proud and exhausted at once, as if art is what remains after catastrophe has already happened.
The page strips the speaker bare - 'Not a soul walked by me and I have / no soul to walk by it' - and pleads 'Please take life away' amid a circus pitched 'so high' and 'A desaster among the stars.' It pivots into a defense of art: 'that particular blue / I knew it was made up,' a color that 'belongs to us,' and the proud, exhausted verdict that 'a better mind / gave us art, not a chance, we have done it all' - invention as what survives catastrophe.