Page 15

By Jack Joseph Smith

Streetcorner I didn't ask for anybody to cross my way, or to cross me Settled at my desk now to make myself deliver I am the conscience with drawn Street gossip,. and sin in the underground of homes,, pass me by,, and hide away, from me, there, Angry and narrow eyed,, the assult of my type makes life appear only to me I carry crosses and curses round robin Dawn to dusk I cherish class, but nothing of what would of been That is dislike and watching to close, The departed and the departure And my aloneness In a whisper That will not wilt, this starlive, this concrete TREE

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

The speaker stands apart from street gossip, class, departure, and traffic, making solitude feel like both burden and vocation.

The page defines the speaker through refusal and separation: he did not ask to be crossed, he watches street gossip pass by, and he carries crosses and curses in private. The closing handwritten additions make the solitude more imagistic, turning the unwilting whisper into 'this starlive' and 'this concrete TREE'.

Claude

'Streetcorner' opens with a refusal of contact - 'I didn't ask for anybody to cross my way, / or to cross me' - and a vocation of withdrawal: 'Settled at my desk now to make myself deliver / I am the conscience with drawn.' The speaker waves off 'Street gossip,. and sin in the underground / of homes,' carries 'crosses and curses round robin,' and cherishes 'class, but nothing / of what would of been.' The handwritten close turns this 'aloneness / In a whisper' into a hard, rooted image - 'That will not wilt, this starlive, / this concrete TREE' - solitude made permanent and urban.