started reading "Miss Macn'intosh, My Darling," Marguerite Young's 1300 page midwestern metaphysical opium dream walkabout with sentences longer than Walt Whitman's poetry (all of it) and descriptions ranging from lengthy to encyclopedic and encyclopedic it is as Young ambles leisurely though associations, metaphor, images, relations and contrasts and to be honest we start on a bus and its only a few pages later and i dont know if the bus is still there or not