Page 68

By Jack Joseph Smith

Before Final things begin to Clean as glass the candle sticks Caught is your vision simple, as this look the other way Crushed as terror, or happy as released All be the same say the Budist when God is a language rather than the reverse of a dream While only flesh I suppose, is not nonsense And to be the sea, is deeper than an interest To look down before you have climbed up, is certain for punishment, regardless of appearance, or of death I have walked two ways at the same time, and I have felt the salt sing me away as strips When it begins, let the lesson know, when it ends, it has little to do with you

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

This page reframes ordeal as a lesson about perspective, punishment, and how little the self finally controls.

The revisions seem aimed at tightening the metaphysical argument. What remains is a poem about exposure: to height, to judgment, and to the limits of personal meaning.

Claude

Before Final Things Begin To, a sparer pass. Clean as glass the candle sticks, terror or release, the Buddhist God without language, the sea as deeper than an interest. Looking down before you have climbed up is certain for punishment. Two ways at the same time, salt singing away in strips. When it ends, it has little to do with you. The distillation of the Final Things material.