The Fifty Cent Tour

Sunday, April 6, 2014


photo: Kelsey Hannah ( via magpie tales)

thoughts of you
drums in the distance
zebras climb 
& never arrive

baked in sunlight
until bursting
& tender to touch

i am looking forward
to being yours
your one
& only ghost

© 2014-Rene

Sunday, March 30, 2014

tall boys and tatts

color me 
shamrock carved 
switchblade kitsch
blue cacophony ivy

up with
your hot sauce
your devil pepper
light me up &

tack weld
my libido into 
smiley faces
something useful

© 2014-Rene

*image via magpie tales

Sunday, March 23, 2014


       "my bed" photo by Tracey Emin

sliding down
moon swept dais
hipster mummy's
gnawed repose

© 2014-Rene

Sunday, March 16, 2014

spilt milk and honey badgers don't cry

feast in the house of Simon,1610, El Greco 

enjoy what's spilt
leave hold all
your pseudo first
world guilt

breathe it in and
don't let's start
soon there'll come 
a worse part 

just ignore this 
chase your loyalties 

let the lady sing

past the salad days
come the bitter grapes
grown to stomp your

© 2014-Rene

Sunday, March 9, 2014

not us

Lee Plaza Hotel, Detroit, photo by Bonnie Beechler ( via Magpie Tales )

ah, you were not
my lighthouse
shining up
from the bottom of a well

nor was i
your brave daisy
bursting through
suffocating pavement

we were not
conjoined hearts, cores
livers, kidneys 
or even onions

and we won’t ever be
dreaming big
or staying strong
together as old souls

so what...
we’re not
kitchen cliches or 
refrigerator door metaphors

you are you
i am me
and we do get along


© 2014-Rene

Tuesday, March 4, 2014


   The Sleeping Gypsy, 1897, by Henri Rousseau

thank you
that was very honorable
the way you held me
in your infinite arms of 
immaculate plasma 

yes. i was in need
i had danced with a bleak song
curled up in his lap
-the crater of a darkside moon
inhaled his pipe
-a rare child’s final farewell

and now
i am spun gold
i am the brightest flash 
of the upper limb
i am the moment of discovery and 
this sun
is a whirling dervish 

© 2014-Rene

Wednesday, February 26, 2014


"The Hill" ~ Morristown, NJ

I grew up in a place
maybe not unlike yours

Traveled roads
probably a lot like most

It was heaven
with imitation hardwood linoleum

It was three eternities in church service
( during August, with just one fan)

It was sanctuary
with angsty hallways

It was chicken on Sunday
spaghetti on Wednesdays

It was a bubble
in a melting pot

It was trouble
if you wanted it

It was safety
in numbers

It was comradery
in show tunes

It was neighbors who minded
your manners and your business

It was frenemies who feuded
yet fed your family

It was fine not to like
inexcusable not to love

It wasn't perfect

It always tried
It never failed


For #WhereILivedWednesday

Head over to Ann’s blog on the last Wednesday of every month for the Where I Lived Wednesday linkup!

Monday, February 24, 2014


Poet's Sleep, 1989, by Chang Houg Ahn 

my world, a stone
thrown from the tip of my soul
skimming mortal puddles


Sunday, February 16, 2014

mamma sally

puttanesca tickles my nose
pulls me through 
these streets, eyes closed
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to fill my bowl

daughter of the old country
pulled up her roots
for the better life, the big city
Mamma Sally, she knows
how far the red brick goes

raising up tomatoes to the sky
from her window box piazza
seven stories high
Mamma Sally, she knows
how her garden grows

olive oil, garlic, basil in harmony
hymns of joy
the blessed holy trinity
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to save my soul

© 2011-Rene

Universal Studios Lot, Instagram by sessepien ( via Magpie Tales)

Sunday, February 9, 2014


( image via Magpie Tales )

pretty little duck
though slightly mad underneath
through her white sheets tells lies

virgin. bona-fide.

she drops that hocus
pocus into wandering ears
sweet modern miracles

appearing twice nightly

quicker than rabbits
she pulls hats off of her tricks
sleight of hand jive savant

caught them in the glide


For Magpie Tales