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By Jack Joseph Smith

The Little World Hello, I want something that I don't But if I don't want something that that I want The scorge and the life, the catch in the rye he won't hate then when they've been gone A fre varticals & lousy songs The wonder over misery, the shout holding your legs The guess as a true dream, any mistake never cleared Trimuph and the wave of a hand, any one of the seas, were oceans before you identified them, as red and blue and green and orange and gone, and black and white and grey and colorless down Wilder than all the world of thought Little by little we work our way out Crushed alert we don't quit on account We watch pity and hate thrive We don't pray, we laugh, say thank you Jesus, and see scorn as a definate hereafter Look how close we come to killing and taking see how far away they are from streams, natures magic ways, and the end of the line; that is machanically as it is spiritually, I with adverbs simply, during this little world speak

Original Scan

Page 38

AI Interpretation

GPT

This page turns desire, scorn, streams, thought, and survival into a rough manifesto for living inside a damaged little world.

The poem keeps shifting tone from comic to hostile to prayerful. That instability feels deliberate, as if the world itself has become too cramped for a single register.


Claude

The Little World. I want something that I don't. The scourge and the life, the catch in the rye. A few verticals and lousy songs, guess as true dream, triumph and a wave of a hand, seas as oceans before identified, colors going out to black and white and gray and colorless. Praying replaced by thank-you-Jesus laughter. Little by little we work our way out.