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rinueWay back in February, Oronte Churm, whose blog I follow (and doesn't it seem like all the best people are moving on from McSwenney's now?), posted a series of entries about Hemmingway. I happen to be exceedingly fond of Hemmingway (as a writer. Less so as a man.) In this entry, Churm talked about Hemmingway's Paris 1922 Sentences (which were in turn inspired by an exercize of Ezra Pound's) and challenged his readers to submit their own diciplined sentences. I didn't like anything that was submitted, including Churm's, but I wound up writing these. They're not great, but they capture that time well - I found them while going through an old notebook.
1. I have woken to women's voices in the kitchen, monday singing ghosts.
2. I have been asked through a closed bedroom door whether I battered Ciro, who lay naked and asleep beside me at four in the morning while police searched the origin of an anonymous phone call.
3. I have heard the roof pop as deck planks tense from the cold, resonant mariachi heel beats.
4. I have listened to Ciro dressing for work, sliding fabric and the jingle of a belt; he leaves thinking I am still asleep.
1. I have woken to women's voices in the kitchen, monday singing ghosts.
2. I have been asked through a closed bedroom door whether I battered Ciro, who lay naked and asleep beside me at four in the morning while police searched the origin of an anonymous phone call.
3. I have heard the roof pop as deck planks tense from the cold, resonant mariachi heel beats.
4. I have listened to Ciro dressing for work, sliding fabric and the jingle of a belt; he leaves thinking I am still asleep.
