Untitled ("Flowers flot or stay still, rivers and")

By Jack Joseph Smith

Flowers flot or stay still, rivers and tombstones are places for poets to go to walk Sparkling wine always hadme lost, I always thought that spraying was for the children You got to fight at the right angle I don't drink, and most of the time I have never said he has a thing for me I am not along though, to good looking, I suppose. I have water to tell me how good looking I am. Sometimes it dries up; when it doesn't do that, it moves away, really fast, it is better than a mirror, you know, taking you down and going away I'm serious; walking through the house I see Greatgrandmother's mirror is gone

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

A vanity and memory poem where mirrors, water, beauty, and disappearance keep undoing one another.

Claude

Flowers that float or stay still, rivers continuing the sentence — the poem begins mid-thought, as if consciousness were a river carrying fragments of beauty and vanity past the speaker's attention. Mirrors and water keep undoing each other.

The misspelling 'flot' gives the word a physical heaviness that pure floating would not have. These flowers do not drift gracefully — they flot, with effort.