The desert is a departing thief. Black and white forming faint shadows while breaking away an afternoon sun into night. Billboards stare back with origami eyes, glaring with silver lights onto roads running to the edge of the earth. Continuing with a deeper falling, we feel upside down as if a herd of … More FURTHER AWAY
Rain waxes the sidewalk to an earthly shine. Black clouds spell out a beating. Rivers open their mouths. Streams pray to grow. Umbrellas begin to appear, preparing to spring into action. Women begin to hurry for cover. Men walk as if the sun were shinning. Kids splash the anger out of puddles. Eyes look down … More CLEANING UP
At the end of the earth there’s a diving board for each of us, where grieving souls and soiled hands search for a higher place; everyone hopes for security. Truth exposes itself in various colors; nighttime is when the fear of alone is invisible. Long stories and dreams about voices no longer present fill … More JUMP IN
There’s a mirror that reveals the truth and an hour glass with a voice. Dripping water tells the story, where long tracks hide distant whistles. In the background the earth groans and the trees are its gray hairs. There’s a feast on the table, on the other side of the best door. It’s improbable to … More SAFE COMFORT
A flock of geese dripped winged shadows on the surface of my arms and face. A moment of cooling, a passing motion washes darkly through my hair, then slips past, continuing over bushes and onto sides of things the images from heaven spread long throughout the day.
Roger Singer 