Two blocks into Harlem. White shirts, black ties, flowered dresses, patent leather shoes, tattoos and beautiful hair; the streets are always alive. The beat mixes up. The man with a full beard smiles, exposing a picket fence for teeth. Conga drums call out the dance in people. Red and purple cotton hats jive like … More THE HEART OF SONG
The sidewalk is a stream, a playground, an escape without arrows to point the way out. Fallen stars, the scattering of dreamers believing in second chances, light the city at night. Children remain close by, guarded by the fences of stern warnings. Their visions asleep as they accept the ideas of less. Surrounding aromas are … More NOT FAR FROM HERE
An overhead subway creeps between brownstones. Sharp shadows like falling venetian blinds cut across the moving cars. From the street below steam pipes belch gray mists. Visions of the city become abstracts of other visions; seldom is there a clear choice. Late night diners with doors open and tables full of lively hand conversations, … More WASHED OVER
The train lunged in and out of order. Heads swayed like displaced seaweed mocking gravity. The stars and moon remained in place. Thick metal wheels turn with conviction. There is no shame for those asleep, leaning onto windows, newspapers for pillows. The miles create a low hum. The engine possesses a pure heart. White smoke … More NIGHT CRAWLERS
He thought greatly of himself. His phrases and finger pointing attempted to fill the nothingness beneath his shirt. He was respective of others as long as they listened to him. His neckties were bright and his eyes fired from a burn on his tongue. Business was his business but no one knew what business. The … More A BELL RUNG
The last train holds seats for strangers. Yesterday’s newspapers catch at the ankles of the sleep and possessed. The rhythm of steel wheels creaks loudly into the corners, alarming no one. Sinners pray for home. Saints sleep past their stop. Passing city lights reflect in a moment of blur, revealing sad eyes and lonely streets; … More TICKETS PLEASE
It was a dull circle of sleep. A separation where day folds into slumbered haze. Mumbled half words tumble out. An occasional roar breaks the silence. It’s a time between lucid and insanity. Emptiness and heroism. A storm of thoughts strike the base of heaven; the soul envies the catacombs of control. Hours appear … More HALF WAY
TODAY’S MASK It stands again. The opening of day. Clothes fashioned in dreams, purchased in the dawn of shadowed choices. We awake in aspirations. Forged in tosses and turns. We fill our hair from a shower to wash the sleep out. We transfer to the towel unused and excess water. The song of … More TODAY’S MASK
There is no wrong side of the river or the tracks; the sun and rain blesses both side. Nickels and dimes build into a wish. Lightening brightens a dark road. A stray dog avoids strangers and empty pockets. Trains own their sound. At the end of the line it coughs up the last of weary … More ALL AROUND
One in the morning. I stretch, turning off the light. My book falls to the floor. Looking up, a cerulean mist hangs as my eyes adjust. A curtain of black soon covers the room. A diesel truck passes by below. A window shuts in anger. The night stand clock hums out of tune; an electric … More EARLY
Roger Singer 