Page 80

By Jack Joseph Smith

Quiet If this game has no way out I can kill and gain, there is not a question about it If silence is my study, still I can twist your sorrow, into just right Our dungon of dreams reals its, way up from Dante The putrid love of dye, is your love, in the belly, of a paper mill With the best of garments, how can a ghost have extreams Passing through the ghost, can only see your idea There are many who do not know, about how quiet feeling can be The burn in the brain; the crush of the heart. outside one's self Far now is the word instead of fine, still if you have a lip and a finger; the lip quiet does not do it

Original Scan

AI Interpretation

GPT

This page imagines quiet not as peace but as a pressure that can warp grief, thought, and bodily feeling.

The imagery is industrial, infernal, and intimate at once. Silence here feels active and corrosive rather than empty.

Claude

Quiet. If this game has no way out I can kill and gain, no question about it. Silence as a study that can still twist sorrow into just right. Our dungeon of dreams reeling up from Dante. The putrid love of dye in the belly of a paper mill. Passing through the ghost can only see your idea. The burn in the brain, the crush of the heart outside one's self. A lip and a finger, the lip quiet does not do it.