Whole Night Through

WHOLE NIGHT THROUGH

"...as if heaven is not a reflection/of everything we've lost" so says Ella, the heroine of this dark novel in verse. It is a powerful body of work, this--a pulsing hot narrative, rich metaphor, long lists of weathered words. It is moody, sultry, noir. There is Ella—a heroine of the classic sort. Think of Anna Karenina, Daisy Buchanan, the woman at the well. Ella's husband, her lover, her mother and the other folks make up a kind of Greek chorus, commenting on this woman, this fire in the center of their worlds. I don't say this lightly: these poems have the power of love and desire itself to overwhelm you, remind you afresh of your own desperate, foolish heart.
—Roxane Beth Johnson

I’m in awe of L.I. Henley’s book-length narrative / persona-poem-sequence / novel-in-lyrics / poem-for-voices / dream-screenplay — we can invent a genre-label later, but the point is: Whole Night Through is a compelling, enticing read from first to last, a lyric-dramatic achievement by a truly visionary American poet. Like the best of her generation, L.I. Henley’s language is fast and her imagery dense, but her ear is always out for the fierce silences of her characters’ fears and desires. And she has heart — every poem-monologue here, no matter how violent, shows deep compassion for the men and women who wander through her desert landscape, confused but in possession of a fierce grace. I hope this book gets Henley the wide readership she deserves. The 21st century needs a vision like hers.
—James Cushing, San Luis Obispo Poet Laureate

a poem from Whole Night Through:

Ella

Dear Jake,

I will never send this letter.
This letter has a match under it
and whimpers.

Yesterday was your birthday
and I left the phone off the hook.

I ate my nails down to the flesh
and tasted my flesh
and it was vinegar.

You’ve been deployed just three weeks.
At the pool this morning, a toddler
fell into the deep end
while the mother slept on a lounger.

I was on the shallow side, just getting in
and slow with vodka. I thought
maybe I was deaf because the kid

made no sound. But then a car backfired on the highway
and crows flapped wild from that diseased pine
you said would fall.

When you left in the early morning
while I slept,
you left like this.