I tried

I gave it a shot, but I gave up 1/4 of the way through the story which seems to intentionally be made up of every grammatical structure except a sentence.

I shold have known that I wouldn't be able to finish when I read this: "Gray rivers of the industry rolling down plated skin, cascading over rivited joints, collecting in a murky pool around ten digits, sucking into a maelstrom, filtering through bits and dross at the drain into the winding unknown." on the first page of the first story.

I know ... it's artistic expression, but the grammar teacher in me can't take it anymore.

Pitching Ice Cubes at the Sun: a Book of the Dead by Todd Sherman.

I'm done.