Felique Dupré in the Haunted World: By the Statue of the Unknown Bodybuilder

Midnight in the underworld, fireflies twinkle.

Hades scratches himself and remarks on the rain, “Wet, ain’t it?”

The hot Sun settles over Jamaica Plains as the F Train find its
way to The Village.

Persephone claps her hands to her forehead and remarks to the old
woman in the seat across from hers: Oh, the unbearable lightness of
being!”

Replies the old woman, “I’m sorry, these are my bad ears.”

“They look fine to me.”

“Don’t be absurd!”

Persephone points through the screen at the writer: “Tell him to don’t.”

“Oh he never doesn’t!” proclaims the old woman. When do you reach Hell?”

“As soon as I relinquish this train.”

“That could be any time.”

“That could be as we speak.”

“But it won’t be you know,” the old woman points through the screen at the writer. “He hates mixing action with dialogue.”

The train slows as it nears the mouth of Hell and stops.

Persephone disembarks; a cat darts between the wheels of a cart and she recognizes the familiar landmarks of her youth:

The Statue of the Unknown Bodybuilder heroically crushing a mound of
squirming women beneath his feet; the 7Eleven where she stops to buy
Hades a fine cigar.

Public Domain Photo of the Statue of Civic Virtue which Stood at the Union TurnPike station in Queens until it was removed in 2015
The Statue of the Unknown Bodybuilder

How the old devil loves his cigars!

“White Owl.” she says.

“Oui.” replies the clerk.

And it is done.

(C) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Statue of the Unknown Body Builder based on a public domain photo of the Statue of Civic Virtue which stood in Queens at Union Turnpike Station until
2015.

Fusion

You have no

business

No right to

Tell me how to feel.

I do what I must:

I wake up

and pull

the Sky

down.

I plant

my feet

in the best

tradition.

Here, where the

mattress is soft

and damp;

we are bound

by wire and anger:

we are one again.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2017 All Rights Reserved

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Felique Dupré in the Haunted World: Felique Steals Credibility

Felique Duprix sang a gentle lullaby to the little girl clamped between her knees.

“Ladies and Gentlemen/Take my advice, pull down your pants/And slide on hot ice”

The girl’s Mother wept when the train rolled out of Hootersville but Stella knew it was for the best; her little girl would lead a more charming and sophisticated life with Felique.

Stella,” said Felique, “Take off that tacky dress and give me your daughter.

Now, the little girl is a prisoner on the Amtrak to Hell.

The train rocked and rocked and a South of the Border rolled by.

“I want my Muthuh!” said the girl.

A South of the Border rolls by…

“A hag in rags?” replied Felique.

A South of the Border rolled by…

But she’s my Muthuh.”

A South of the Border rolls by…

“Well. So is God in his own way!”

A South of the Border rolls by…

The little girl pulls out her notebook
and writes a poem:

Mommy cried

when

Trina left.

tiny lizards

with

sharp little

teeth

fell from

her eyes

and ran down

her

cheeks.

She closes her notebook and waits:

a South of the Border rolls by.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Heather Heyer: Charlottesville Violence Victim.

from The Militant Negro™

The Militant Negro™

Mother of Charlottesville victim speaks to HuffPost about her daughter’s life.

Heather Heyer ‘Murdered While Protesting Against Hate’ In Charlottesville, Friends Say

The woman who was killed in Charlottesville, Virginiaon Saturday when a car plowed into a group of anti-racist demonstrators was a 32-year-old paralegal who was passionate about social justice.
Heather Heyer’s mother, Susan Bro, told HuffPost that her daughter attended Saturday’s rally because she “was about bringing an end to injustice.”

From The Huffington Post.Com:

Heather Heyer ‘Murdered While Protesting Against Hate’ In Charlottesville, Friends Say

“If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention,” read Heyer’s last public post on Facebook.

RUCKERSVILLE, Va. ― The woman who was killed in Charlottesville, Virginia, on Saturday when a car plowed into a group of anti-racist demonstrators was a 32-year-old paralegal who was passionate about social justice.

Heather Heyer’s mother, Susan Bro…

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