Page 67

By Jack Joseph Smith

My friend and I had been traveling through Mexico during 1963 and 1964. I lost my eyesight in the desert once for a week, but was cured by some strange save.. We rode in the back of pick up trucks watching stars. The buses we rode always fell thousands of feet through the air before letting us off. The markets were filled with the knowledge of intentional misunderstandings. It was gay and grand. But we were running out of money and American pop- ulated lakes when we went down to the port towns. Through the trip the air we knew in our eyes didn't pay for coffie and beers but it kept us alive. I sware that when we laid our underware out we were respected. My friend had the sience of a doctor, and when I did crazy things he let me do them alone. Picking up for what was to come, I once went with an outlaw to his hideout at a tavern. The men wore there guns as if Hollywood knew what they were talking about, and I drank and cried for three streight dayes. Then the shrimp got incredable and I forgot every- thing. The ship I got on was supposed to be Australian, but the crew told me it was New Zealand, while those who were cleaver said that it really came from Ireland. I even knew a beautiful man from Sweden jumping up and down trying to hop her, but he had a big beard then, and we sailed out away from him. My friend was right. He did not have to be a doctor. Actually we knew there were 4,000 dead sheep on the tanker when we had come out with some whores to wonder one night for laughs. That's a lie too, for we had seen what was left of the live ones coming down the planks in the mid afternoon in that port of Manzanillo.

Original Scan

Page 67

AI Interpretation

GPT

The page reads like a rough travel memoir, moving from Mexico to sea passage through hunger, danger, bravado, and self-correction.

What gives this page force is its unstable voice. It keeps turning lived experience into myth and then undercutting itself, most clearly in `That's a lie too`. The writing is interested in edge conditions: near blindness, outlaw company, exhausted money, shipboard death, and the strange prestige of simply surviving. Even in draft form, it has momentum.

Claude

The Mexico preamble to the ship. Traveling through Mexico 1963 to 1964, losing eyesight in the desert for a week and being cured by a strange save, buses falling thousands of feet through the air, shrimp strong enough to erase memory. The ship is variously reported as Australian, New Zealand, or Irish, and the beautiful bearded Swedish man trying to hop her is left on the dock. The page introduces the 4,000 dead sheep as already known before boarding.