Woke up at 7:30. Paid a parking ticket from Peekskill. Realized that I’d blown off calling into jury duty Friday. (It’s too late. Not sure what consequence to expect.) Went to E77 around 9. Finished the Hiss book – interesting thoughts on urbanism and landscape planning, but the rah-rah Ted-talk quality of the exposition got to me. Daybook – had a couple of actual ideas for short poems, so worked ahead. Read 2nd section of Lauterbach, a long lyric essay called “Task: To Open.” Roughly equal doses of: reflections on her alienation from some recent poetic trends, not to mention social media; glosses on Emerson; some fairly de rigeur suspicion about reason/rationality – and a couple of stunning passages of vivid imagery/distributed attention, esp. p. 71, that justify the enterprise. Came home, started reading Farrukh Dhondy, C.L.R. James. (I fell so far behind on my self-imposed quotas of reading prose and poetry last month that I feel like getting at least up to, if not over, my usual pace and the time devoted to my “reading life,” which feels in some way at least as important as doing the same with writing.) Anyway – I know so little about James, really, that it seems like getting the shape of the life will help me decide what to read; this author seems very invested in James’ non-rejection of, broadly, the West (more narrowly, English lit + public school/cricketer values) despite his Marxism and advocacy of colonial self-determination. W/o knowing other secondary literature, I’m suspecting that this is only one way of viewing his work.