Page 71

By Jack Joseph Smith

Accumilation The care about the wicked, without care, about what the deed is stuck to The star struck, the shine with the shank Or to sink shattered down from the skyline Senses sword to the soul Needless at nightfull Praying never again on that line As if lost were a place in a city No it is not a cause that quits It is not the chawk that squeeks Abhororent like a silencior This is where death lives to concur Any string you can play And sound of music you might hear

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

This page turns moral accusation into something musical and theatrical, as if wickedness has both a sound and a stage.

The language is rough, but the movement is clear: from deed to skyline to soul to silence. Even in fragmentary form, the poem feels like a study in how violence becomes atmosphere.

Claude

Accumulation. The care about the wicked, without care, about what the deed is stuck to. The star struck, the shine with the shank, sink shattered down from the skyline. Senses sword to the soul. Needless at nightfall, praying never again on that line. Abhorrent like a silencer, this is where death lives to concur. Any string you can play, any sound of music you might hear.