dennis scharnberg

Waking:  the process—sometimes instantaneous—of remembering oneself.

Royce Cuttberth,  The Kingdom of Ice.

Is this the island where Emelia Earhart spent her last moments?  And what were those moments like?  Did she have enough time to experience sex in some way?

Nolan Grayshott,  The Giants of Popular Culture.

His treatment [of the material] presented an abundance of “perhaps” and “it would seem” and “probably”—all of those wobbly wishful expressions.  Why would a person write such stuff?  Toward what benefit?

Stephanie Muhundro,  Books and Doors.

The reality, in all cases, is overwhelming.  The description can be only anemic.

Clinton Burdyce,  Making Verbs From Nouns.

The dream of science:  that things can be isolated.

Benedict Symes,  A Meditation on Periodicity.

If we take architecture as a form of writing—and what could be more natural than to do so?—then, yes, the Doric order does present perplexities.

Sloane Daniels,  The Ways of Undoing.

What science shows is that nothing can be done.

Dieter Borst,  Single Points of Failure.

…so [Aleister Crowley] looked for signs, and indeed he found them.

Callista Clive,  More Edwardian Abominations.

The worst oppression—for everyone—is the imagined kind.

Mills Verbruggen,  The Isle of Dogs.

We don’t have writing anymore.  We just think we do.  Quantity does not matter.

Gunnar Grimes,  The Persistence of Vision.