Hot city. Concrete alleys. Weeds crawl from cracks near broken glass and homeless stars. Black wires above connect buildings like jungle vines where birds and small creatures cross the canyon. Mounds of garbage sit fat with moisture, ripe with decay. A back door opens. A fat man wearing an apron steps out lighting a cigarette. … More CONCRETE ALLEYS
An alley. The warm side. Red bricks mortared with sweat. Black pipes track to the roof. A radio bubbles the air. Sad songs like cold air drop into shadows. A window watcher. Second floor. Beneath the fire escape. Fingers prying apart white blinds. Viewing below; eyes deep set, hidden in a cave, protected, revealing nothing. … More WINDOW FINGERS
The factory. River water pushes in electric out. Stoic faces, busy hands, leaning forward, tools clanking, assembly lines organizing, textiles, metals, lathes and labor, pallets and wire. Row houses, red brick, open windows, curtains lipping the corners, pipes with steam, chimneys black belching, parking lots and fences, green service doors, fans spinning, workers in overalls, … More MILL TOWN
GRAY AND FLAT A following of suitcases, faces moving under gray metal skies. Faith long ago leaped away, claiming a lost kingdom from a ragged past. Abandoned without gain they all walk city streets, moving in mass around corners past lights and buildings. They follow without leading. Regularly looking back.
THE LONG AND SHORT A naked night, void of stars, opens a canvas of black where a moon, in the corner of space lays captured. It is a black and white night, a photo with shades and shadows with cool skin and eyes like diamonds. The shape of a … More THE LONG AND SHORT
We awake within a thin state of dreaming, half there and the other part opening up with a stretch. The song of city streets releases motion. An early overcast creates pale chalky grey shadows onto faces hurrying and stained sidewalks. A harmonica in apartment 2-B ripens by the minute. The sound works to blend a … More ANOTHER MORNING
The rising aroma of fresh bread circles up with intent within a tight shaded alley attacking the senses of appetites full of empty. Like thieves drawn to open windows the magic of leaven lifts like carpets full of magic owning the air with thoughtful desires of tasty jewels. … More FULL OF EMPTY
The jazz sweeps the lonesome form me feeding my needs and filling my wants digging into deep and pulling up like an anchor rising from the a dark blue breaking the gold blue surface releasing my pain spinning it like a top faster into fast onto the floor past dancing feet … More BREAKING SOUND
In the jam of the group one note sets the tone, created within smoky circles the sound complete, a tight message of music, fingers pulling the jazz, drums striking up a beat, brushing the day aside, as the horn digs deep, the sax pushes out a raspy scratch and the bass mellows into an undercurrent … More SIDEWAYS
The music had change and stretch, marching the sidewalks, turning heels and heads, twisting the jazz in into shadows with snap and burning where fingers speak a language of black tar streets and perfume rolls on the sweat of hands born into the arms of people stacked in apartments that … More A CITY MOVING
Roger Singer 