The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees

Yes.

The question — out there — emailed — could not phone — the great weight of future contingents pressed against my mind — waiting — did I do everything right? Gutted candles? Flames? The resolution of binary opposites. No. Yes. Why not Yes. Say Yes. Yes.

The trick — what’s the trick — the trick is to stand on the cliffs and jump. The trick is to take the blows of the world, and still stand, laughing, joyous — I was Edward Yellow, Knight of the Dolorous Face. But we are always naming — new names are possible — Isaiah, other name of mine — Isaiah Red — of the Joyous Guard.

If her, then her. If not her, another. Duty resolves to beauty. As the trees resleeve, my limbs too add sinew. Dust-body falls away, fresh green stretches. Hasn’t happened yet. Hungry. Headache forming. But will. But will. Has to. Swim. Stand on the edge of the cliff and wait to jump.

Scott Hutchinson

We salute at the threshold of the North Sea in my mind
And the nautical board-man that drove me here
to  the tide and swim
— I swim — swim —

So swim until you can’t see land
Are you a man or are you a bag of sand?

Up to my knees now, do I wait? Do I dive?
The sea has seen my like before though it’s my 

Swim until you can’t see land
Are you a man or are you a bag of sand?

Now the water’s taller than me
And the land is a marker line
All I am is a body adrift in water, salt and sky

Swim until you can’t see land
Are you a man or are you a bag of sand?