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


Trina left.

tiny lizards


sharp little


fell from

her eyes

and ran down



She closes her notebook and waits:

a South of the Border rolls by.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Blog Networking: 8/10/17

Blog Networking from Dream Big, Dream Often

Dream Big, Dream Often


Blog networking is one of the most undervalued and underused strategies for most.  But I believe it is at the core for growing a blog.

You will find links in this post to help eliminate some of the work; all you have to do is LIKE, COMMENT and FOLLOW others. The more you network with other blogs, the more other blogs will network with you!

Essential Living with Dakota

Obsolete Childhood

Everything In and Around Denmark

Kingdom Living

Pearls Before Swine

Rafa Farihah

Advocate for Mental Illness


The Courage To Shift

Who’s My Favorite Today?

The Purple Almond

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Felique Dupré in the Haunted World: Headed to Hell

Persephone is headed to Hell but first she decides to
meet Christ in Manhattan.

She takes in the sights of 7th Avenue; shards of rain
slice the sky.

She stops at the Cafe des Poetes for a cappuccino:

“Ex-presso! she orders.

“How fast?” asks the waiter.

“Oh, the puns,” Persephone sighs. “Please stop!”

“Make him.” the waiter points through the screen at the writer .

Persephone gives the writer an irritated glance, “He never stops!
Ex-presso please.”

“But you came in for a cappuccino.”

“But I ordered an ex-presso.”

“Not stating your intention! This is no way to meet Christ!”

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

At Those Moments

The moment he straddles my hips and applies his lips to mine,

The moment I press my cheek to his belly or feel his arms around
my neck,

At those moments his slightest touch is remembered and grieved.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved