never alone without voice words chase me down while traveling through nameless towns like cats and thieves soft walking through openings in fences where whispers speak and lies wish for the truth never stopping outrunning hunger yet praying for one more heartbeat to see the moon while evening drinks the day dry … More IN THE QUIET
wet pavement rain washes city dust polishing the rust with heavens night showers shining sidewalks beneath an all night diners neon’s ruffled muted images drip past the front door into refuge where sinners have no regrets as they speak of never enough time while exchanging ideas of washed over without washed out … More NIGHT GATHERING
unkempt hours lacking value steal the breath out of day anxious wishing tries to move time, though fails against the push within the clutter of desks and chairs heads lean like gravestones while the eyes of one look like the eyes of another
his hair spoke the language of wind whipping over his ears falling onto a furrowed forehead an ocean of air rushes and gathers against gravity pushing its weight against the presence of his salt and light bone and blood
wish me well I’m in a pattern of landing hard in this balloon filled with lead while feeling dark all over in the middle of the day when I know the eyes of a mannequin has a soul and a plastic heart truer than some that I know
rain I got crying wet onto me diamond drops brightened by street lights making the worst appear washed and clean while puddles reflect neon’s as passing footsteps make busy waves disturbing what weeps and gathers from the under surface of heaven to the streets where I walk
eyes with work a wall clock without mercy typewriter language paper thick with ink corner offices glass doors with names water tank and paper cups fluorescent lights no one notices the hum high heels hair spray jackets and ties felt hats everyone smokes see you tomorrow
the dogs of night get a new growl when backdoor clubs fill with evening voices dancers sway rhythmically within clouds of smoke lipstick numbers appear on napkins when approving eyes catch a glance yesterdays salted wounds disappear as morning stretches over empty streets
there’s an opportunity of attitude to go the other way avoiding the lines to immediately impose on something to believe in without striving receiving the interest of everything your out of becoming more than anybody not just an everybody leaving the rough road behind
spider stars high above suspended glory drawing my eyes to swim up within cool clean air receiving forgiveness as everything opens up and moonlight falls back onto my face I realize I am a hermit visitor within a moving universe
Roger Singer 