Page 25

By Jack Joseph Smith

The tails swap possibilities and positions with the wind, when there is any. There is no cleanliness in the tropics, but I never knew any as well while these kids down there are busy snatching us birds out of the sky. My growing up was more down to earth, swamp like. Then it was wavering around as prey too, but I had a different handle on it, if ya know what I mean. Now I am switched to the prehistoric Iuse to imagine in the sky, and just how fortunate those youngsters are down there. Now would anyone in a kind of black, or off white suit admit that I would trade places with this madness in a minute. I suppose not to be recon'ed with. iL Ww // be oS oe EVEY Pi lieg wh bv Your thought can not try the transcendence in recklessness ig ” fi hi You will never be allowed to pass myth on to your children 4 ad > tipns Led Ss a Your power is bound with the cord of unfulfilled laughter} M& / / Sooth Semin fy) E158 ch enr h A and my being a misfit across the Serria Madra qe-wherever;—~ dL p- Ps is worth it. Son / . aa

Original Scan

Page 25

AI Interpretation

GPT

Birds, tropical uncleanness, and childhood perspective make this page a humid, downward-looking memory poem.

The line about growing up `more down to ear` is especially strong. The page cares about how place changes the body's level of attention.

Claude

A prose paragraph about tropical tails and kids snatching birds out of the sky, giving way to a verse coda about transcendence denied and being a misfit across the Sierra Madre — the author's 'Iuse', 'recon'ed', 'Serria Madra' intact.