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Showing posts from November, 2011

dubious luxury

Image:  Christine Donnier-Valentin Inspired? Visit Magpie Tales you should stand out from the crowd but you gotta hold back ju-u-st enough pick your place and your moment wisely otherwise folks'll be skeptical and that diamond tiara may as well be a tin-foil hat it's like i'm always sayin' to my girl Frankie, honey, don't matter if you're wearing the right red dress if it's the wrong damn time people can smell trying-too-hard from a mile away Rene ~ November 2011

vodka girls

South Nashua, NH ~ Photo by Rene we get  an early start rise around noon or 3:15 panty twisted and panda eyed fresh  as gas station daisies staring skyward in spite of the sun teeterin' stiletto'd  squirrels on  telephone lines yeah, yeah,  the danger whatever we go hard  so  it knows us but damn sure doesn't own us we've touched bottom so many times we've left hand prints in the cement just like Hollywood, baby yeah go 'head print that Rene ~ November 2011

Little Boy Blue

Image: Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman "Sexiness wears thin after a while and beauty fades, but to be married to a man who makes you laugh every day, ah, now that's a real treat." ~ Joanne Woodward Magpie Tales you tickle me, spin me 'round and spoil me rotten slipping into my purse flickers of denim blue laughter courting, grinning, all the while winking at danger spin me once again then wrap me 'round your heart like a ribbon what a treat you are what a gift you've given Rene ~ November 2011 Happy Thanksgiving

battenburg lace

there's no emptying my thoughts my words my endless, brilliant failed to-do's without carelessly spilling a drop or seven battenburg lace sunday afternoon petal edged rivers run, rise and gently stumble over stones and tied tongues dripping dropping polka dotting splashing down crimson Rene ~ February/November 2011

M-80

photo credit: Rene After we'd loosed that last thunderclap of the summer, up on the old Erie Lackawanna tracks, I swear we heard the Universe exhale: "Thank God that's fucking over with." Me and Brady walked back to town on the rails strutting like dimestore peacocks smoking Marlboros and talking like we knew about everything and didn't give a shit about nothin' So Brady asks me, "You scared about startin' high school?" "Naw, I ain't scared" "You lie, asshole" " Brady, you smell like a bowl of assholes, better pray you stop before school starts" "Yeah, and I know you better pray to the titty fairy before school starts" Usually the shit that Brady said didn't bother me, because we were always just kinda foolin' and playin' around but, I don't know. That day it was weird. And instead of punching him the arm, I just got all quiet. And so he was all quiet. An

insomnia

photo credit: Google Images for Magpie Tales blood stains freckle snow white linen like rusted lace i hide my face yet i still hear the scrape of sharp edged marbles in your mouth tumbling over scotch rocks and little red last straws nobody sees this the more that doesn't meet their eye but break a leg they've read the book and smell the rat the taste of bile once on your lips, i know this silences the barking dog i wait, i pray you sleep soon, soundly, sweetly on soiled linen as a broken spirit hides and mends under the covers of a library's worth of least read novels Rene~November 2011 For d'verse ~ Poet's pub photo credit: Rene

sanctuary

Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid for Magpie Tales I always end up at Gate of Heaven after the pub, but before dinner drownin' in liquid amnesia it's safer under the oaks away from them and selfishly envious of feckin' Able Moore. Lucky bastard, dying like he did war hero, soldier, saint not a livin', sufferin' forgotten, faceless sonofabitch bummin' cigarettes from snot nosed brats at the Seven Eleven Remember me? I didn't always run and hide on the Fourth of July pissin' myself in terror Tell me Don't you goddamn remember me? I don't feckin' care if you don't But oh my Jesus, don't you forget to remember me, Able when I come into your kingdom don't you dare, man don't you goddamn dare Rene ~ November 2011 Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is often suffered silently. Click here for more information.