Page 6

By Jack Joseph Smith

The world awaits for us to believe What once we thought we had conceived It tingles there behind The footsteps we walk away from Without our mind To remind us of our passage Around corners And through walls of no space at all Symbols cry to us in printed signs And lines draw themselves Through the stones of our bodies image High and low Wide and narrow With no song left unsung At the ends of our faceless imagination

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

A short poem about symbolic residue and human passage: printed signs, drawn lines, and 'no song left unsung / At the ends of our faceless imagination.'

The page now reads as a clean lyric rather than a letterhead object. Its central move is to connect footsteps, walls, signs, and body-image into one field of traces, where imagination gathers what ordinary passage leaves behind.

Claude

A page-length meditation on passage and symbolic residue, where footsteps, printed signs, and drawn lines keep marking the body and imagination.

The poem moves as one continuous block rather than a sequence of separated stanzas, which suits its argument that passage leaves traces everywhere at once. Signs, walls, stones, and the body all become surfaces where meaning keeps writing itself, until the closing image of 'faceless imagination' turns that residue inward.