..."It—the writing of Alette—" "was alive once" "scaldinggold of it" "bitter jet black thunderous train roar" "and the quiet caves"
"and quieter still, the" "incomplete dark Paradise"
- Alice Notley
I made myself finish Mysteries of Small Houses, but it was more useful as a learning experience, rather than enjoyable as a reading experience. The Descent of Alette is probably one of my favorite poetry books of all time—I've read it 3.5 times, that half read only because I left my copy in the seat pocket in front of me on a plane. Since I'm interested in books that are not sectioned off, that have no obvious framing device, that are just poems that all come together to do the work, and since I so loved Alette, I made myself finish. But I kept checking to see how many pages were left, and I didn't read it all in one sitting, like I usually do with poetry collections. I'm intent on not being a hater, though, so I'll just say that I'd like to emulate Notley's honesty.
I found my camera battery charger, predictably, in a safe and obvious place. So here are a couple of orchid blooms, taken accidentally with flash: