he stretched to the moon his hand, fingers pointing into unknown fathoms with an ethereal line breaking beyond gravity and limits as he stood on the soil of his part of the earth looking up into the dark and black tempting, taunting the distance from her to there in defiance
the jazz the hip the swagger the sound high life sweat and gin piano sweet horns of life dogs barking neon’s sizzle suspenders and silk pony tails beards and sash fingers snap lipstick and lace cymbals and sticks midnight and the passage to the other side
Disturbed waters are the evidence of youths seeking a smooth belonging; searching to square off the circle. They are dreamers between rocks, pushing from a hard place, attempting to re-create the beginning without pain, escaping the fires between the lines. Fingers bait the eyes into corners. Second chances come at a cost. Seek to … More SEARCHING
Roger Singer 