Innocent violence creates the sediment of the street. The people, the open windows, full of colors, spirits lifting out of gray shadows and black roads. The streets are never satisfied, always hungry, hands reaching Hammering voices, Words speaking loud and sweat dripping. City spirits drift uneasy, searching … More HIGH GROUND
Anxious up-filled boxes of unpacked thoughts awake. Hands begin to assemble the day. Idle parts take form. The first steps of the city begin to move. A mass of faces blur into colors. Space is challenged. Lines like yesterday appear. Armies of legs swing into force as the city moves the gears of People.
I’ve become The dot On the i In your sentence About me That i no longer Fit with u. I am d r i f t i n g, Settling uneasy Like turbulent Stormy silt Pushed out and Away. Clouds watch me Wander as my Hands slash At the air With words Of anger From … More THE DOT ON YOUR i
ON DIVISADERO A hill with faces and sidewalks, green shoes and sneakers without laces, chalkboard menus, peppers and onions and bicycles passing apartments with yellow shutters and terracotta pots with flowers reaching over touching heads as buses crawl and street cars sing the cables and pulleys stretch, the youth laugh with tan skin and … More ON DIVISADERO
The pop of jazz rushed a line from his horn long with lifting a breath desired as the world slips from his eyes opening dreams with furious release like night runners searching for safety where every street is an alley of a song yet formed as angels slip and run and crowds lean into … More OPENING DREAMS
Engine words roughed and ragged fell out of him, crushing the room, pushing back like a wind energy strengthening like a storm wild with debris and alarm waking the untrusting slapping the innocent Stirring an motion wild with song a moaning like windows opening after winter silence he stretches his … More UPSTREAM
A ripple of air passes over a curtain in an open window. Papers tumble gently, trapped at the base of a picket fence. A weathervane signals direction, twisting quickly. A furious language descends. Shutters slap senselessly without rhythm. Tree tops swirl like ocean bottom seaweed. Leaves … More FAR ABOVE
The fingers of his childhood pointed into heaven, teasing angels with music food, coaxing their beauty to his porch to slap their wings in approval. Mockingbirds held the tongue of their voices when his horn owned the air, bending the sky onto the dust of his shoes. Fields of labor stirred … More IN HIS COLOR
Highway trucks beat a rhythm of road. Red lights press and release like arteries pulsing. Steady and long, full and heavy. Songs of travel spin the blacktop; miles behind lay thin and pressed. Rolling behemoths, like buffalos cresting hills, feverishly running corners and flats. Kings of the road. Soldiers scripted to find their place, somewhere … More UP AHEAD
A fellowship of approval formed her like strong waves blessing the song releasing nectar dripping thick as the bass man slipped into smooth releasing a passion to the strings submitting to his touch while the lights dimmed and hands clapped them into the next set where pearls of sound filled the years with stories … More HER WEB
Roger Singer 