The fingers of her hands bridged out to me, long on compassion, strong with faith, circling over the mantel of my loss like steel forming foundations through depths of how I suffered as she reaches into my pain with her prayer.
VORTICES Feral tongues rise in whispered shades. Nighthawks lift in dark air making fair game of evening space. The time of planning fills the room, settling on the first sigh of sleep until dreams slip to the floor. Long talks have little effect on what actually gets done, as words spin in … More VORTICES
The clean of the rain juiced from heaven. Falling. Dry yields to circled wet. Water shines rust and doors with stains. Weedy city lots. Moist. Damp. Spiny nameless plants stand erect. A stubborn aroma released. Broken bricks, colorless, beaten by time. An open window. A scratchy song finds legs, dancing to the street; … More GUTTER PARADE
Ancient ocean colliding sliding under the subduction of mud on stone the friction of fire into liquid red and then erratic stone where mountains under water in depths beyond dark lurk as behemoths without claws stretching spreading apart crawling footprints without sound underwater shadows yielding to a millennial voice.
Between dusk and light half truths and minced oaths lift from lips sentences of thought salted in hope the understanding breaking wisdom where abandoned chances release onto sidewalks unnoticed passed over as common babbling taken for granted a bruising for speech from the wandering wise without pillows standing, spreading neon flashes of mercurial thoughts. … More STREET WISE
A vine of words, green and waxed full spring from his talking. He stares at the sky, never tired of dark blue, the unlimited wide space where he reaches a hand toward it. A subtle breeze from behind touches his hair, lifting an edge, disrupting order without his notice. Cloud shadows form … More STRENGTH
The “is” of him has crossed into the “was”. The image with a shadow is now cloaked in “was”. I knew his “is” very well, never with thought of his becoming a “was”. Shoes and shirts and a favorite hat lay in a box; the hope of a “was” not to visit; those were the … More FROM “IS” TO “WAS”
We are in the business of judging strangers with wry smiles and hats dipped low. We lean in to evaluate, though not close, watching their direction with curiosity and fear, while avoiding their gaze so as not to be invited into their unstable space. We imagine their aroma. Where they slept and what their looking … More STRANGERS
It’s a legend of moving, heels of travelers, train soot or bus grease. There’s a road for everyone; a language of sound without hurrying. Slapping screen doors, caffeine and gas, diesel smoke and fast down gears; dirty fingers with a chance to go. Clock watchers without soul have no song; it’s a fail … More GREASE & CAFFEINE
Nothing good happens after 2am. Freight trains rattle the roads, shaking plates and stirring dogs. Streetlights blink a hazy yellow. Everything appears closed. Neon signs sleep. Doors are locked against the wrong keys. A black cat stares at a garbage can shadow. City buses have yielded themselves to the station. Thieves and robbers speak in … More STEAK & EGGS
Roger Singer 