The wind was the change granite against paper shadows unfrozen running from a forbidden sleep the faithful pray the fastest get to safety first rational thoughts create sweat and pull out the tears the bones of trees rattle xylophone’s into jealousy shoes and those without step rightly with concern … More TWISTED WIND
It’s the river thick with flow a moving mass of air over motion full of whispers shadowed in the past of me near where street cars pound metal and smoke stacks send signals raining soot in alleys and corners where pain and sweat speak of days of youth once thought never to end where prayers … More IN FULL VIEW
In the corners of the desert whispers drain out as sweat becomes the turpentine from unnecessary movement desert flowers draw on moisture in the air bones lost in storms become the crossroads of the hunted each direction is an unknown destination while the lost and stubborn follow the moon tears stain … More STEP THIS WAY
Railroad Avenue. Cinders and broken glass. Warm engines blowing smoke. Old men with hats, suspenders, stained work boots and pants. Great stories of Louisiana bayous, marshlands, mountains and oceans. Empty freight cars transporting lost souls and homeless dreams. Wooden platforms, benches carved with names. Trackside families. Steady work. Scars and sweat. Creosote … More MEMORY GHOST
Dogs barking, children in an abandoned lot. Their game interrupted by a dispute. Small towns hold its players close, leaving little room to maneuver away from the center. Girls look at magazines, shopping for images. Young men sweat with strength, struggling with self as they search beyond the package of where they are. An old … More WHICH WAY
Red cowboy boots. Dust with living legends. Blue jeans, the working uniform. Skies with danger and full sun. The aroma of wet hay and work horse saddles. Leather reins, the steering wheel bound to a bit. Seasons that blend. Calloused hands. Facial lines, the human rings of trees. Sweat stained hats. Beards and tattoos. Cold … More BUNK HOUSE
Unfinished crosswords and cigarettes feed the granite regulars at the diner. Torn vinyl and stained tiles welcome neighborhood regulars; black rimmed glasses, uncombed hair, cowboy boots, long sleeve shirts and a variety of hats. The food lacks life. Coffee fuels the thoughts. The place is a safety net dipped in grease. The radio stales the … More TAKE A SEAT
Roger Singer 