Page 22

By Jack Joseph Smith

The Infant Coming out of the wildest wind Clearly Nabraska would be a child The sun shone, disappeared, than landed on our ground All on the day you were born, this earth was shattered more servervily, than anything it had ever seen In shadow or sorrow, in steel and strength, you became my intelligance, you became my test Every day I sat you down in the middle of a yard, that was a medow, and asked you in the evening, to be the sweet dream of your mother This was not a dumb mistake within a dream, you were done on purpose With work, with war without metaphor, you, were the grinding through hell for absolution Your quietness and strength as an infant, told me that how far I was away from Domestic life, I would stay, like a chiefton knowing his tribe, would be lost, for you, I would stay There is no glory at the end of a tongue, and I know I talk to much But I wrapped you with what wisdom I had, and never has there been a single instant of sadness, while I guess the hardest part for both of us, is that I love you still

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

A child born into wind and Nebraska becomes both test and intelligence, forcing the speaker to stay in the world for love rather than glory.

The page addresses a child as catastrophe, test, wisdom, and reason to remain. Its love is stripped of public glory: the speaker stays not for language or achievement, but because the infant's quiet strength makes domestic life and continued presence unavoidable.

Claude

'The Infant' addresses a child as both cataclysm and vocation: born 'Coming out of the wildest wind' so that 'this earth was shattered more servervily, / than anything it had ever seen,' the infant 'became my intelligance, you became my test.' The speaker recalls sitting the child 'in the middle of a yard, / that was a medow' and insisting the birth was no accident - 'you were done on purpose,' 'the grinding through hell for absolution.' The child's 'quietness and strength' bind him to stay 'like a chiefton knowing his tribe / would be lost.' The ending bares the ache: 'There is no glory at the end of a tongue, / and I know I talk to much,' and 'the hardest part for both of us, / is that I love you still.' Source spellings 'Nabraska,' 'servervily,' 'intelligance,' 'medow,' and 'chiefton' are preserved.