Cloud cover and rainy days challenge my wings. I enjoy the change, the rumbling of intention, flashes of heavenly combat releasing mist before it pours. Rain is the old of the skies washing everything new. Like a baby waking, crying over everything, making day come to them. Rain brings up a delirium of … More COME ON RAIN
There was a hot rain streaming to heaven onto cobblestone streets. Misty warm baked sun breezes blow steady like the sax man, blanketing the city from work worn docks up to the statue in Jackson Square. New Orleans offers dreams beneath magnolias and rattling frontons. Broken souls sleep off the city on street cars … More CRESCENT CITY
The stage is ablaze with cigarette smoke. Brass finger keys howl from the sax man tapping gold from Gabriel’s horn. Alley cats sing the nine lives to back room shadows where Tom Waits breaks the words from jumbled unwashed dreams and Ginsberg works the beast from his pen while Kerouac reaches for starry nights over … More RELEASING WORDS
Roger Singer 