I pulled down a dream. Opened like a present. I feel a full sun warming me; breezes reinforce the moment. Beach grass bends to rhythm. Bicycles, open shirts, uncombed hair. Faces without voices. Water reflections. Warm freshly tarred roads. The fragrance of low tide. Corners without boundaries. Each day writes its own menu. Radios speak … More ONE PAST YESTERDAY
Rectangles with souls. Windows lined like soldiers. Sounds in the head. Fog rises but never into a storm. Dogs walking as if they know where they’re going. Fast steps lead to a corner bar where No one’s ship comes in; liquid languages spoken here. Everything appears in slow motion. It’s easier to remember when … More CITY WALKING
There’s a distant place, a delicate vision created from the memory of questionably reality. Believing what was there may be the shadow of what was only part; we see the evidence of wind but not the actual wind. Soon the absurd becomes real, a parallel difference difficult to discern like the layers of an onion; … More PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY
Broken letters. The unfashioning of words scattered on the floor; thoughts rejected, names forgotten. Jumbled letters; a game without love. Static angles breaking out of paragraphs, swept into piles, filling buckets, thrown to the wind where letters from lost words find new air, breathing life from the incorrect.
He found the door with hands like arrows. He escaped into a cold breathing wind where his footsteps moved in long strides past idle trees waiting for a season To wake them up he walked briskly onto a field cleared of stones by hands long turned to dust as he moved away into shadows under … More JUST MOVING
Heavy, with the frame of a big man through a crowd, the storm front rolled in like horses running wild. Winds viciously slapped trees, lifting objects weak with weight into the turbulence of clotheslines dancing electric and windows rattling like angry snakes or unburied bones. Doors yielded to great pushes … More RUSTY HINGES
Highway papers scatter the road. Yesterday’s news pressed against the inside of a factory fence. The sky is rose red. The air is moist. There are no songs but the wind gusts a tune. The clouds resemble casual caring hands, resting like sleep while building silently into towers over a landscape full and willing. A … More REPLENISH
A tortuous wind casts gray footsteps over a wide water. Tree tops shake green waxy leaves. A swirl of odorless breezes pushes like fast midnight feet. Fathoms of cool sand hold the shoreline intact. The slip of a curtain wags its tongue through an open window. Children create laughter out … More SATURDAY MORNING
I know a road of dust and wind, open at both ends, encouraging dreamers and people with maps who set out to far places, never sure when they’ve arrived. I look both ways at the distance equal to the left and right where footsteps mark a passing along with a horse and dog. … More UP AHEAD
Flat is the water, where dreams roll over past chances and hands with palms exposed pleading truth and roads chosen too soon release darkened unfamiliar clouds where thunder presses the chest and rain washes the better part of shadows from the skin while tired legs search and find glimpses of places where words breathe uneasily … More FAST WITH FLOW
Roger Singer 