Out of Tangiers the fragrance followed. A stack of letters bound with a blue ribbon, wait for the seeds of their thoughts to be watered when their words are read. Suits with ties and jackets unzipped. The conversation moved onto paper with broken pencils until 2am; sleep can wait. Cold water and a third floor … More PARIS HOTEL
Under the skin, a motor of sound. Molasses fingertips play dark thick jazz. Wet soaked dirt roads kick start the aroma of his thoughts. Smooth perfumed skin smiles into his lust. His mile of strong words runs like a river engine; a power few own. A wind moves on a sweet green growing field. His … More DEEP POCKETS
Gusts of air. Turbulent waves, hot and steam filled, rush like running thieves up the subway stairs, circling her hair, teasing the ends of morning care. Her gum snaps like frenzied whips, keeping time with stories she shares. Turnstiles twist like fallen windmills releasing the aroma of rust and useless oils; a fine baptism of … More ANXIOUS EYES
Street lights sign in as dusk resigns to darkness. Scattered shadows of leaves dance on midnight sidewalks. Homes sleep in silence. Dark breezes lift curtain edges, creating life from worn cloth. Porch lights dot the galaxy of streets. Picket fences keep strangers away but ghosts pass through freely. A train whistle, distant yet sharp, bleeds … More MIDNIGHT
Blow horn man blow dark out of night with wicked blasts scaring the silence into running. Blow hard knocking down the bones of stand up music into rattling corner dice. Blow long that solid note piercing sharp like a knife cutting deep opening wide the jazz.
She was a chance for good air the beginning of song released in the wings of her words bold with color strong with history on the stage where she worshipped the words opening black nights with subtle breezes like her travel to towns blurred with names and faces melting into … More SUBTLE BREEZES
Innocent violence creates the sediment of the street. The people, the open windows, full of colors, spirits lifting out of gray shadows and black roads. The streets are never satisfied, always hungry, hands reaching Hammering voices, Words speaking loud and sweat dripping. City spirits drift uneasy, searching … More HIGH GROUND
Anxious up-filled boxes of unpacked thoughts awake. Hands begin to assemble the day. Idle parts take form. The first steps of the city begin to move. A mass of faces blur into colors. Space is challenged. Lines like yesterday appear. Armies of legs swing into force as the city moves the gears of People.
A quiet horizon slowly absorbs a flat bronze evening sky, its edges melting into a dusky mist. There were no low rumbles or gusts of wind or clouds forming and reforming; a weighted silence pressed down onto a solemn ground. It was a moment of looking up, Wondering what would be next. Preparing for change. … More NIGHT QUIET
In the presence of magnolias in full bloom as silver fingers of moss sway warm with summer, voices exchange hearts under the light of a talking moon. Clouds have long folded into nothingness. Soft aromas flood the thoughts. A coolness settles on the skin. The upside of bats turn angles into artwork. A fine dew … More FRONT PORCH
Roger Singer 