Go, just drive and let the warm air fiddle fast with my hair blowing it wild like the branches passing overhead while the roll of the tires tracks miles of distance from where I started to an unknown destination down the road just out of sight from here but where I should be as the … More JUST DRIVE
The weather sounded on the rocks. Waters rippled over deep currents as voices of land moved, grinding out the textures of highs and lows. A blue glass sky covered wide prairies. Rains baptized mountains into valleys. Clouds stepped long shadows over ravines and gorges and then moved in directions yet to be named. … More TIME STARTED
Coffee brewed with morning aroma in the apartment overlooking the rail yard. Between curtains, curious fingers open a space for wandering eyes. Men with hats and stained overalls oil the smoking metal beats. A tower switchman yells from a window to ears thinking of lunch. A dog runs over the twisting tracks, its tail tucked … More RAIL YARD
His shoulders sat strong with moving, powering forward claiming the path cut for him with serious eyes. Arms found comfort with swaying, claiming the air like long lazy summer strides reaching into dusk. Suspicion hung curtain thick on his blue well worn shirt from faces seeking questions. Through the crowd past open fires where … More A MAN WALKING
Jump that train. Hold tight. Never worrying about which way it’s going, just getting on and going, feeling the hair lifting and wind from prairie towns brushing my eyes while passing quiet towns and barking dogs where streets blend into the same, with maybe a few alike, but all the same encouraging me to take … More STRANGERS FACE
Between rooms 3 and 4, cornered in tight, blinking randomly and humming a fat motor tune is the soda machine at the highway 5 motel. Trucks run the road, their tires singing for home. Horns beep on frontage roads, where cars park and threats are heard. A warm day slips into passing, opening … More HIGHWAY 5
It’s a legend of moving, heels of travelers, train soot or bus grease. There’s a road for everyone; a language of sound without hurrying. Slapping screen doors, caffeine and gas, diesel smoke and fast down gears; dirty fingers with a chance to go. Clock watchers without soul have no song; it’s a fail … More GREASE & CAFFEINE
Songs of dreams jump the river, heavy with nights and clouded rains. Scuffed shoes on the beach and shirt tails shake the wind. The Nickel Bar calls the faithful by aroma, even the sour and stale from the evening before. Johnny comes home, proud to be standing. The hope of many buried in suitcases … More THE NEXT CURVE
Dreams grow on billboards, some are painted on the sides of barns. Out of Chicago on 66, winds at my back, passing brick churches, racing freight trains to St. Louis, where a river heads south as I push past growing fields where families work for peanuts while harvesting corn as I move onto Oklahoma, … More ROUTE 66
A concrete steel arm, weighted like a planet connects rocks and land for passage of feet and wheels to there and back over water the stretching mass made by hands forgotten to time labored their sweat and muddied boots stained faces bruised hands as they formed and massed a great strength moving ground and rocks … More THE OTHER SIDE
Roger Singer 