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By Jack Joseph Smith

This is The gaze, This gaze will Always be Once far down sloped yet inlet close to seabound, I saw the four suns silent as a youngster with joy; sorrow shearing God away just as well Color sliding as a motion, knowing all is pure white, strangely forgiving in the notion, that it will, give nothing back To many crosses of light that take you to the end, bleak and hurting, catching, capturing fear, before the circle of you steps out; nature will find a way to tie the knot in your gut, no matter how you might disreguard your own self This about dangerous beauty, and it is boundless Yet there is a place before its acceptance, where vision goes no further, it needs to be in amazement a singgularity of sight, a watching space, beyond any thought of a sign come to you These stars don't come apart in the heavens for free will It is the gigantic without love while you love it, and I am still trying to hard my dear to run across the universe myself

Original Scan

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AI Interpretation

GPT

This opening page of 'The gaze' treats vision as a vast, frightening beauty that gives nothing back.

The poem is obsessed with what happens when sight exceeds comfort. The world it sees is luminous, cosmic, and physically felt in the gut.

Claude

The first 'Gaze' poem opens the book's visionary register: 'I saw the four suns silent as a youngster with joy; / sorrow shearing God away just as well.' The light is pure white but withholding, 'strangely forgiving in the notion, that it will, / give nothing back,' and 'nature will find a way to tie the knot in your gut.' This is 'dangerous beauty, and it is boundless,' demanding 'a singgularity of sight, a watching space.' The close insists the cosmos is indifferent - 'the gigantic without love while you love it' - while the speaker is 'still trying to hard my dear to run across / the universe myself.'