Not The Rockefellers

i know the face but i've misplaced the name along with my car keys and that song that goes la di da di da you know the one c'mon help me out here hey, how about the time we bought apples at the Acme i couldn't get over how delicious was it September? i'm trying to remember don't all the best apples happen in September? your father liked September back to school with Robert Hall new jackets shoes and socks and don't forget pencil cases and book covers what a damn racket the cup goes in the cupboard that's how i remember neat trick, huh? i like tricks just like a kid otherwise i'd go in circles all day looking for corners Rene ~ January 2012

I am an earthquake hot spot a jenga nightmare no room for that one delicate last stir of a straw crazy I know but I cannot find the fault so I breathe without exhaling and I stretch elbows turned inwards-always and I wait for it all to fall apart or the joke to crack Rene ~ January 2012

she serves it raw not for the timid she socks it to you straight you chase her you fall tripping on the corner of her eye her fair game caught up in  a midnight dragnet no stories, no way out no names just safe words Rene ~ January 2012 For Magpie Tales ~ Miss Wasabi don't hold hands! you want that? go to noodle house. From  Boris Hoppek 's Tokyo exhibit "Ever"

the milk so much sweeter the truth so much easier from the inside of the love bird glass fill it with joy or pour out sorrows hands in prayer surround the love bird glass listen to the rain hit the roof like a heartbeat quench a thirsty soul from the love bird glass Rene ~ May 2011 Revised January 2012 For d'Verse "Meet The Bar"

This blog. It's been a godsend to me in so many ways. A place to write. A place to organize my thoughts. A place to let my freak flag fly. A place to make friends, from places that I have to put on my glasses to find on a map. A place to grow. A place to communicate. The world is a smaller, more accessible place thanks to blogging. Every day I mix with: Forward thinkers, mass transit raconteurs, flash fictionistas, guerrilla poets, buzzword hurlers, one-line wonders, one ups-manshippers, Über Moms and Super Dads. I don't remember a time when I've been surrounded by so many talented, funny people... or so much unbelievable heartbreak. I am quiet by nature. I get a few words and one-liners in, but I often feel like an observer in real life group conversation. It's usually because I feel I don't have anything interesting to add. Or: My jokes and references are too arcane, I am so out of the loop on post modernism and I can't even fake the ...

i call my lovers  and demons to the table by their proper names i make them dance for their supper as i sing Summertime in dead ringer Ella Fitzgerald January 2012 ~ Rene For Magpie Tales Happy 100th Tess

broken moon on my left crooked river on my right got my holey soles dug in halfway to China deep in the hungry belly of the night out in the side-yard dogs are barking and there's blood in the air split my lip on a broken dream teacup no bones about it friend this old mother's cupboard is bare can't blame this on the moon or the way the river run don't want your sympathy cuz it's what I did, or failed to do that's made me come undone but you can pray for me, child tell the Lord I can't do it alone send me angels bearing biscuits and red eye gravy whiskey and a big ol hambone Rene ~ January 2012 For The Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Photo by Lee Friedlander, 1977 The Mag is open for submissions. Click on over! An imagined conversation between Father Francis Duffy and Yul Brynner as the King of Siam hard,eh? to be rooted planted at the  crossroads watching the whole world  wig out  and fly in your face  refusing to kowtow face forward, mate stare down the dawn with eyes like campfires let ' em see let 'em know never were men braver Rene ~ January 2012

River, Marina Moevs, 2005 Inspired? Check out Magpie Tales i ain't  going down to the river  to pray gonna build me  a fortress gonna get  the hell away getting my  ass off the grid getting it  good and hid no i ain't  going down to the river  to pray i ain't  going down to wait  for no king it's live free  or die here all  or nothing all i'm  serving is fish it ain't  on no  silver dish no i ain't  going down to wait  for no king i ain't  going down to the river  to cry left my  lover in the city didn't even  say goodbye pulled the  wool off my head found i  was almost dead no i ain't  going down to the river  to cry and i  ain't going back  to the city to die Rene ~