Page 141

By Jack Joseph Smith

ie Ge lutredye ol HM UARC OES Perea s o f- the boo 4 (4 Chapter IX 4 ceondauce with there Sub6s tawek, Beek writers beneprh the Soll, It was time for me to dance, Yes, indeed, it was time for singing, Louds.as I would begin to persue the illusive and forgotton dreams of book writers lying beneath the soilg I would give my spirit a kiss uncaring, I would run out of the shadows of the past and capture all the excitement of the world in a joyess form, A rhymn for me in sweetness, let it lie, beneath the scent of a million years of flowers, as I walk along picking fruit to munch on my way across the coborfullness of a new visio Carefree and careless, I will go, in my march without drums, My arms will dangle, .as my finger tips feel the sensation of all distant things, No F more-walls to close in on me, and my skull would begin to feel the wad bth of pink flesh again; Late summer had been a time of going to Greek picnics and Polish picnics, and to the gatherings of the Lithuanians and the Ttalians, the fum of a summer day with sparkling wine set upon the long tables of laughter; ! would talk with the older meny:.as I Walked, aroutid sipping-bee? and now and>then downing a streight shot of o Rov foncns burbons My body would feel heated with goodnesss and the girls of rainbow eepebrnass would smile, as their cheeks turned in circles under the flashing Sung Wilt “The sae folk musics Smiling girls with the mystery of a gypsy past, practiced only on a Saturday afternoon; Saturday mornings were flashing too, for socker games on the Hungarian field, and watching Beaverd Trish brotheriniaw ‘battle it out with his fancy feet flying across the dirt and scattered stones; I walked through all of this laughing, with a beard and tennis shoes, completely unaware, of course, of the game T had’ begun’ I didn't kmow quite where to goy quite what to dos I left the employ of my father, and told ‘him, that no sort of business career could ever be a part of mes All the same, I kept the rich girl clinging at my side, Tcalled-her Bis, asshe—seemedte follow-me-ae-if T-wae-eLoproccn_she desired to go ona_jegmney-withe ie could see

Original Scan

Page 141

AI Interpretation

GPT

A new chapter opens in a burst of dancing and singing as the narrator moves through late-summer Greek, Polish, Lithuanian, and Italian picnics, soccer fields, bourbon, folk music, and smiling girls while beginning to leave his father's business and keeping the rich girl near him.

The mood swings outward after the solitary dawn walk, and for a moment the world feels festive, bodily, and communal. Even so, the line about the game already begun suggests that escape, role-playing, and self-invention are quietly organizing the pleasure.

Claude

Chapter IX opens with handwritten lines above the typescript — a dedication to book writers beneath the soil — and Michael declaring it is time to dance, to run out of the shadows of the past and capture the excitement of the world in joyless form.