Letter 376A: Confessionn of Faith, (a note to himself), it is not clear if he sent this to any of his correspondents. Not the conquest of the air, but our entry thither. We come. Our soiled overalls were the the livery of that sunrise. The soilings of our bodies in its sevice were prismatic with its light. Moody or broody. From ground to air. First we are not earthbound. In speed we hurl ourselves behond the body. Our bodies cannot scale the heavens except in a fume of petrol. The concentration of our bodies in entering a loop. Bones, blood, flesh all pressed inward together. Not the conquest of the air. Be plain, guts. In speed we hurl ourselves beyond the body. We enter it. we come. Our bodies cannot scale heaven except in a fume of burnt petrol. As lords that are expected. Yet there is a silent joy in our arrival. Years and years. Long arpeggios of chafing wires. The concentration of one's body in entering a loop. { ......this "letter" is more a poetic memorandum to himself of a personal and spiritual nature (my comment). No footnote indicates otherwise.}


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