Page 38
By Jack Joseph Smith
By Jack Joseph Smith
Original Scan
AI Interpretation
Two sisters on a North Side bridge are set against displacement, river industry, and the hard glow of Pittsburgh at night.
The scene is both intimate and civic. The older sister, baby in arms, stands at an edge while the younger watches, and around them the poem maps Manchester's displaced residents, stadium-building, oil on water, paddle wheels, and tavern speech. It reads as a social landscape poem where private crisis and city redevelopment become impossible to separate.
'The abies at the end of civilization' opens a dense Pittsburgh tableau: the older sister 'stood with her baby in her / arms on the old North Side Bridge', its 'iron forged curves buldged by rust', while the younger sister 'watched' and 'had followed' to where the 'Allegany' makes 'a beginning, and ending, / for Manchester's depossesed.' The poem maps displacement - families 'shifted off their homes on the Hill Dis- / trict' for a coming 'baseball stadium' - against oil-colored water, a 'paddle wheel pushing coal', and a riverman wanting to 'close my mind forever / to it at the push of the tavern door.' Private crisis and civic redevelopment fuse. This reading stays provisional because the page is OCR-recovered with 'handwriting_status = uncertain'; spellings 'rivited', 'buldged', 'depossesed', 'realistate' are preserved, and the handwritten 'N.P.' insertion role is unresolved.