♦ For putting forth only revisions of yourself, with punctuation worked over, instead of the disordered truth, I forgive you. ♦ The stories are here, but [where] are we? ♦ Perhaps we’re slated to ascend to some kind of intelligence that doesn’t need bodies, or clean water, or even air. ♦ Each word becomes a scream. ♦ It’s why I carry matches. ♦
Links above (in red) are quoted text.
Sentences are powerful. Brian Dillon wrote a whole book about them. Put enough sentences together and you’ll have your own book. Writers tend to collect other people’s sentences. I do. This week’s combistory juxtaposes five I encountered online this week. Nudging you to read the pieces I found them in is the point of this combinatory play. The authors of the sentences, in order of placement, are:
Martin Shaw in Small Gods
Carin Makuz at Matilda Magtree, in Details
All five sentences caught my attention, but it’s the first I keep returning to, and the whole of Dilruba Ahmed’s remarkable poem. I’m working on my own list of things I hold against myself. When I’m ready, I intend to set the list on fire. It’s why I carry matches.