Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....NO SMOKING.... BRIGADOON...

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix...NO SMOKING0BRIGADOON.


….*Glasgow Journalism, a tough RE-call from Italia, England, the Americas...CALLED to the BAR, an honorary Councillor, PROTEST,  Smoka-roni-Ban, in PUB or Taverna where WORKING MEN find a lone tweed pride and nirvana....As in Glasgow...

...A grand bust of Beethoven over the Music Shop.
CUrry on Gibson Street every Saturday night!
Macintosh Design and Poet McGonigal, DA CROW IS NIS ERE NOO!!!
And at the STONEHOUSE bar, try to make progress, in ONE lifetime, through 200 malt whiskeys of your INNER Choir...

AND U LADIES OF ABERDEEN, High Teas, Judge ROY BEAN, Sheffield-TEXAS, when the Town got respectable and, WHOA!!!...banned the BAGPIPES!...

I can smoke a PIPE in SEVEN YEARS to countenance your WIFFIE-Machiavelli in your HOUR, your gender, or legislate in the COLD winds of FEBRUARY,  me-thinks, my Dear, a frigid Spring, no longer in your STEAMIE ….yet ALL the World to conceive…in your Steamie.


c2018,davedelacroix, Italy.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....Robinson Crusoe.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Robinson Crusoe.


...WELL, I ONCE was a LAD, about and abound in the West Riding of Yorkshire and BEFORE OXFORD or Cambridge town...I had 2 fancy Daughters. Yet I did not DESPAIR or cook up a HARE with Bambini on my hands. Me Mamma took care and I, for wealth and fortune would take to the Sea and  return to be Pappa to Me fancy daughters.

Alas, their Mama-s Love in Me did bleed, a faraway, disconsolate. And overseas no consolation as in the Americas I ran a-foul of pirates, divers hands and most foul diversity, years between.

And now AGED, grey, I return, clay pipe in my mouth. All me fancy daughters now full grown with families OWN. How will they find the man that USED to be...now here  to honour their Mama-s sad grave...


c2018,davedelacroix,vicola la marca,sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Dostoyevsky.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix.... Dostoyevsky.

* dedicato Sergei


3 days without the Internet, gone with WIND, I decided to kill my neighbours. Inconvenient noisy fuckers, the Left-Side of Cool. Gals, ALL called PATTI, at the local MINI-Market, on my List. Gotta think about my BARTENDERS though. Takes SERIOUS thought. Not so much about a TAB, more about WIFI. Luigi, Capitano on a fishing boat down at Sciacca harbour, delivers the groovy PESCI, maybe we can put it down to a STORM and my Councillor, charging too much, fell off the piazza Scandalitto cliff. I-ve  been warning tourists bout dat FOREVER.....Still. My Destiny, my Dynamic may yet NOT go astray when I invite my CLOSEST friends down to local FOGGIA beach, not arriving myself, and a convenient Tsunami washes them all away! YUP! 3 days without Internet and the Devil makes works for idle hands, me-thinks, or SO we say!


c2018,davedelacroix,vicola la marca,sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....GEORGES SIMENON.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....GEORGES SIMENON.


*dedicato. Isabel Pessora, Artist-Francais.


When EVIL came it caught me wearing TWEED in Winter, NOT Autumn, disparaging the little things, the minutiae, that make Life-s Cinq-quoi, Me and You... in Seasons of mists.

When EVIL arrived, NO Nero, no bianco, no MASQUE, no MASTA-BLASTO except only in a singue, blood,  the SCUFF of Conscience, a reputation, dignity gone South!

When LOVE has gone South EVIL rejoices. A Jailing! A Contempt! A Song UN-sung!!!

When EVIL came.. a chopped-off head, she put the BODY in the Freezer, ASTA LA VITA, she took the Insurance and PLANNED on a Mediterranean cruise, Autumn leaves and Muse...apparently, with me...

Allors! But it didn-t quite work out. The POZI-DRIVE-Screwdriver....Pick a Dog a Bone....Bloody fingerprints. And despite protestations of Innocence, OUTRIGHT INSANITY...

...those bastards HUNG ME by the neck without Shoes.... FOR U.



c2018,davedelacroix,vicola la marca,sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....Beirut Cafe.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... Beirut Café.


*dedicato, Reese Mulligan and N.Y.C., Café Beirut. and CBGB-Umfug afficionadoes.


Did U EVER wear Hipsters
did U ever wear slant sunglasses-Noir.
Did U ever fuck ya boyfriend
with a French Tickler.
Did U ever go WAIL, Up-top
a Limousine, Jazz-scene,
Broadway, N.Y.C., or lower East side.

Did U ever WAX pregnant
at the Beirut Café, no NEED to ask
did U ever sing da Blues...
Did U ever Panhandle
on some WARHOL Champs d-Elysee's
or give your body
just to keep your Soul.

Did U ever wear Hipsters
like NOW, on a Saturday night
or wonder IF Yesterday, maybe,
had U in it-s Sights!
Did U ever kiss Tomorrow
like when the Packard failed to arrive
this side of Cool.

Did U ever RE-invent a FACE
or shake hands with Foes
just to...get along. Or BACK
to those Hipsters, Saturday nights,
back to Heaven, EVERYTHING
seemed Righteous!

Back to THOSE days
when everything BELONGED,
back to U, in focus,
U sang EVER Song, TRA-LA-LA!
...or this side of COOL
at the Beirut Café....



c2018,davedelacroix,cafe porta Palermo,murphys pub, Sciacca-sicily, November.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix...Monte Carlo Casino.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Monte Carlo Casino..

*dedicato, Martina.


DIAMONDS or SPADES, the Non-accidental TOURIST-false-Waltz, demi-couture, SELFIE immortalizes a VACANZA, not suffering B n B-s, Whisky, waiters, belligerent Gals, Gigolos, with NO time of the day....AND lie in California, the Surfing Crews, socially IN-cubated by-tan, a twilight, night-time, NO HOPE for the Gal, Red Dress...I hope she HAS one...ALL is loneliness.
….It-s what U bring to the Table. IL TAVOLA!...and EXPECTING OF, not much but sometimes...in Paris, Napoli, a smile goes a long way. And the last Vacanza, 5 minutes, Usurped by your latent expectations, arises to drive it HOME as to where U went on a holiday... My Paramour and Me, I dare say, our hands adjoined, elegant and smiling, in Monte Carlo with diamonds and spades. On THAT card. Banco! Mai-Qui!


C.2018, davedelacroix. Sciacca-sicilia. Just back from the Cote d-azure.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix...A WOMB with a VIEW.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix...A Womb with a View.

*dedicato Carol M. Aniello.


A Womb with a View that never goes away, astray, azure!
A womb with a view, within a hologram that suggests
a hologram, an Um-biblical to All our senses. A womb
with a view, UN-towards yet DE-ciphered
in a CODEX, like a Noble Birthmark, a WOMB with a VIEW
of Me, of You, of we two.


c2018, davedelacroix,sciacca-sicily, vicola la marca.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix...I Taught the Weeping Willow...

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix...I Taught the Weeping Willow...


*dedicato Damon Wood.


I taught the weeping willow how to
sigh, sigh, sigh.
I thought I-d DONE with sighing,
today, I dunno why.
Roll on U flowing Highway,
I guess it-s DO or DIE,
what can it matter now,
anyhow...

I thought I-d rid the CLOCK of it-s
Time, time, time!
I thought I-d put my Future
all behind!
Roll on U flowing Highway
to Hell or past-beyond,
Dat weepin willow shot me with a Gun!

I taught the weeping willow how to
CRY -in bunches!....
Shook it-s branches.....
and WE all turned out FANCY!
Roll On U lonesome Highway,
I-ll see YOU in the SKY WAY!
All along that-s where
we all belonged.

I taught da Weeping-whatsit how to
Sigh, sigh, sigh!
I thought I-d done with Yesterday
it beats me as to why.
Roll on U flowing Highway,
I guess it DO or DYING,
what can it matter now, anyhow.

What can it matter now, anyhow.....


c2018,davedelacroix, Sciacca-sicily, café porta Palermo. Victorio-bartending.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... NO bandana for Garibaldi.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix..... NO bandana for Garibaldi.


*dedicato Anita Thompson, Aspen, Colorado, USA.


NO bandana for Garibaldi
no LAURELS for Che Guevara,
no REVOLUTION for Vladimir L.
or a prairie in the sky
for GREAT GONZO
Doctor Hunter S. Thompson

NO kisses ever SO sweet
for the NEXT Strangers-Straniere,
no NEWS garners History
in OUR IN-between Life.

NO St. Crispin-s day, no bloody
AGINCOURT
No Appomattox,
the Blue and Grey have fallen!
No CHOIR, ever can distill
STALINGRAD,
no balalaika. No balalaika...

Whilst NO kisses, ever so sweet
within our IN-between Life,
NO BANDANA for Armistice Day
or nameless Soldiers,
no Cannon Fodder... and YET
today, the record SPINS
and spins and spins
into a MOUTH of Disgust.

YO!!!...No bandana for Garibaldi
nor Ceasar-s Triumph.
ALL is an Illusion... RIGHT NOW!
Can I get a Sad SELFIE!!!!!...…



c2018,november,sciacca-sicily, café porta Palermo.Maybe it-ll rain. Maybe it won-t.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix......ABRACADABRA!!!...When Elephanys rumble...

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....Abracadabra!!!...When Elephants rumble...


*dedicato Roger Armstrong and Jean-Paul Gautier, fellow Rockstars, R.I.P. -Denver Cogniscenti of yore.



When Elephants rumble, MICE squeak!
When Mice squeak, Elephants TREMBLE.....
Spooky.

Aesop's Fables run amok, a Pythagorean RE-count,
Hippocrates, oath-less. Plato-s Aristo, UN-recognized,
Boswell-s Dr. Johnson, Speechless! And WHO
amongst the Order of Angels
if I cried OUT -NOT a ONE! A stillness...beyond Silence.

How many miles to Babylon, 3 score and 10.
Can I get there by candle light...NO WAY!
ONLY in the GREEN ZONE. Or, how MANY
kliks to Yesterday, again, NONE! Tomorrow-s JAWS
upload a YAWL to swallow ENTITY
into Eternity absorbing even your last cries ECHO,
OH MAH GOD!!!

Kisses to Paradise. Passion divulged, divested, GONE,
a grease residual of a Biblical Feast, over-done. As
when Elephants rumble, Mice squeak! Yet when
Mice squeak, Elephants tremble
a Universal Congress, alas, where we kiss, kill and meet.

Spooky.


c2018, davedelacroix,Murphys Pub, Sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.....ELVIS has left the building!

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....ELVIS has left the building...


*dedicato, Thespian, Movie Dude, drinking buddy...William Forsythe.


ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!!! And nobody knows what to DO!!! The GROUPIES, panties in-hand, stymied, Crowd-Control on the Las Vegas Strip, out of bounds< GUNFIRE ERUPTS from a Casino-Hotel window, SWAT TEAMS down at Doughnuts R US, Official Las Vegas... McDonald the Clown... RIPS off his costume in search of a new vocation, his INNER Clown...

ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING!!! A Casino swimming pool of tears. Parking Valets, glove-less, hand out Car-keys, first come, first served. SOMEBODY got a ROLLS, somebody got a Porsche, somebody got a RAINBOW VW VAN, somebody got a Nevada-Highway thumb! It-s IN-explicable! The Shock and Awe! News-channel TV/Helio-s hover twix LVPD-Cop Copters ALL on Live T.V. over Interstate-15, a highway to HELL, back to L.A. that Elvis never gets to see.

Elvis has left the building, Senor. And according to Juanita Juarez, Chamber-maid, at Casino Ceasar-s Palace, it-s SUCCINCT. The night of the locusts!


c2018,davedelacroix, café porta Palermo, Sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix......PASSWORD.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Password.

I don't remember my Password
I don't remember your Name
I don't remember ANYTHING
can anything be the same.
I don't remember where we met
whether we kissed
fucked or had fun
on the run,
whether we went on Fuck-Book
photos, comments,
in the USA or Italy
and that Password-thingy
got me on mah knees,
should I respond,
the Internet ONUS
or some gig, like piano
in a stupid room,
Paris or New York City
a noisy street below
strangled by my own forgetting...

c2018, vicola la marca, Sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....DON-T U WORY BOUT Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Don-t U WORRY bout Dave Delacroix.




DON-T U WORRY about Dave Delacroix
if U DIDN-T pass it ON..
for Green Kryptonite,
the Man can STILL be Superman.
U DID, don-t pass it on. U DID.

Don-t U worry if U HAD a message from GOD.
Elucidated, a VISION, a homespun intuition
whilst polishing your Dildo, battery-expired,
no cape-crusader in the sky.

Don-t U worry about Dave Delacroix,
here and gone, a devil
in the fog,
squawking expletives,

a broken,
walking wounded, breast-proud less
of all your Guerra-bitch-medals, bleeding
Self-Indulgence. And a Romance!

NARCISSUS reigns in Poetry, BIG GUNS
silence the monotony of Indecision.
LOVE, like a fool
advances to the trenches.

Don-t U worry about Dave Delacroix, my sweet,
no-longer YOUR succour love-s venom
or that walk-between
where-in all human thought and feeling
feeds.

And when U arrive, don-t be embarrassed.
Your Credit Cards!
Perhaps, YET,
we will dance into the night!



c2018,dave  Delacroix, Sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave deacroix....Like a Sailor!

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix..Like a Sailor!


CHOKING for God-s sakes on MEDIA, Musak,, football Encyclopedia, CELL-family PHONE in a lagoon where a Hannibal SHARK eventually...sniffs your Gentile foreskin, your lost TOES, the price of survival, UP-SIDES your MOOD. like a Sailor!


c2018,davedelacroix.,sciacca-sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....Catcher in the Rye.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix... Catcher in the Rye.

*dedicato, Malibu budster-Cody, Dan Washburn.


BIG BOYS
don't ask why
Big Boys,
the Catcher in the rye,
big boys
don't need to wonder why
big boys SURF the SCREAM
big boys
fightin in a Dream.

Big boys
cant go Home again
big boys
don't return your Calls
big boys
lying in the sun
big boys
don't ever WHINE
big boys
they never die
big boys,
the Catcher...in the rye...


c2018,davedelacroix, café porta Palermo,sciacca-sicily. November.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....The Naked Persona.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....The Naked Persona.


SUN-BLEACHED STRADA on its grande tour, a Nano-Eternity, simpering for moisture. A STRAY...doggie...sniffing gutters of Infinity or worse. Albani-botteglia-Bottle trees STILLED, no whittling, no wither and the mezzo-giorno silence established. Not a murmur. Vecchio-Civita Nothingness, a God unto itself without purpose, logic, reason. Only its sun-bleached persona reigns.

And nary a sign of Man, chatter, as a Spider on my terrazzo Bar Odeon café table awaits its preys mortality which navigates beer glass, bottle, ashtray, cellphone, writing paraphernalia, smoking, and a mind in creative chaos.

Who UN-paints this Canvas!
Who UN-screams this Scream!!!

2 Hepcats appear! The Café-s adjacent Solar powered-malfunctioning fountain is the topic of conversation. A lone VESPA-scooter squeals across the piazza Carmine. A panoply of tourists butterfly, incendiary, and plant themselves at the next table. They order Pizza slices, Vino, Pellegrino beer and chatter Itineraries.

Yet the post-naked intrinsic vitality of the past naked moment remains to haunt the last of the Summer wine and all my Tomorrows, indivisible.


c2018. davedelacroix. Late October.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Last Night in Town...

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix..... Last Night in Town....


*dedicato Princess X. IN Roma and the displaced,  by NAPOLEON in 1907, heir to the Throne  and lands traversing the Danube in Germany, Czechosolvakia, and Hungary....COUNT VON HAUSTEIN, WILLIAM 111, William Houston, fellow Rockstar and Media Tsar.


Last Night in Town...


LAST NITE in town, the NON-accidental Tourists, finally
spilling their guts, going home...false-waltz, demi-culture, SELFIES,
vacanza-immortali…
And suffering B n Bs, WHISKEY-wailers, belligerante, GALS with NO time,
day or night...for U.
Like IN California, SURF CREWS, IN-cubata, NIGHT, no hope for....fill
in da blanks., on vacation....COOL WAVE or a Grey White Shark, the Back Dahlia
on Sunset and Vine. Her Name is Lunanda! Tips, appreciated. Either way!

LIKE a SURFER I just wasted a WAVE yaking bout....a Poetic Dawn Patrol.
HERE-S a PHOTO of G and ME, Me and Z!!!..We are now FRIENDS on, yes, Facebook. And
LUKE the DUKE, King Surfer, now runs a BUSISINESS, says he can HELP me...send me 200 bucks, starter-money. I get  to walk the BOARDWALK into Hollywood Hell. So SMILE for ME Sweet David, she says andari, bela, we kiss. All my Heroes compounded ...in a siege of ancient Troy, somehow...GOD-s finger on your pulse.

LAST NIGHT in my latest Motel room I RE-strung my G-G-Guitar...getting chillin....Now that I am Old...HOW do I tell these Kids.. I-m the richest Guy in town....with ONLY 5 Bucks to my Name, or better still, a LIMP into a collective Future. Like an accident, an imposition, some Tourist-Ass on his last night in Town.


c2018,dave Delacroix,sciacca,sicilia.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... IZZIE and DIZZIE!...a love song.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix.... IZZIE and DIZZIE...a love song.

*dedicato….Marc Pierson, fellow Guitar Strummer.


Izzie and Dizie.

LOVE song
just a LOVE song
the ONLY love song
*U IZ WOT U IZ!

COOL song,
NOT long
the ONLY song
of Love!

IZZIE, hot tune,
STIR dah MUSE,
IZZIE
in love
with DIZZIE
again....

HEP-CATS!
on da WELCOME mat,
Izzie found Dizzie
at last
working an L.A. Strip joint!

*Refrain....

And the little, gentle Lambs
skip, in the meadow. ANGELS
pluck on Lyres,
FAIRIES DO da WOTCHA-BOOTIE!

...Meantime,
in the CITY, IZZIE
is in love with...U know who!
 YO!!!
IZZIE gone Dizzie over YOU!
I said,
Izzie, gone DIZZIE
and over U.


c2018, dave Delacroix. WHEN IZ met DIZ...title track from the MOTION PICTURE, maybe with Warner Bros., starring JOHNNY DEPP, yet to be Produced, from Up-coming Dave Delacroix CD...U IZ WOT U IZ.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....LICATA STREET....Sciacca, Sicily.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix...….LICATA STREET....Sciacca, Sicily.


*dedicato Acussio.


Rest after TOIL, Death after Life, PORT after Storm...doth greatly please.... And in SCIACCA-Sicily, where NOW, 2018, I live, a town famed for the Italian CINEMA brouhaha, Pietro Germi-s Classic movie, Seduced and Abandoned, 1964, where-in every Sciacca-native takes pride, Lenny Amedeo, GREASE BARBER-SHOP, my OWN-this day Barber, a child in a crowd scene, and many more AMICI including Antonio Segreto, Maestro Dude at MURPHYS IRISH PUB in the Palazzo Inveges from where some movie scenes were shot, BAR SANTANGELO, also featuring in several Scenes, still thriving, vecchio-patroni Guys with Mega-Stories from whence to hence! Ancient Sciacca families, the Montalbanos, Segretos, the Cima, Bovina, many more...and the LICATA!

There are TWO main thoroughfares in Sciacca-old town. Via V. Emanuele...POSH!... and Via LICATA. The latter, traditionally used for Produce-conveyance into the town market, atypical medieval scene. Donkeys, carts, dogs barking, Ragazzi-crowds, jugglers, Priests, STUDENTS cajoling, the latter like today... and honest Folks, the families of the Fishermen who pioneered this ancient Magna-Greco locale, founded upon natural SPA ground waters and the bounty of the Sea.

I ran into fellow SHAKATERRO Accusio L. We drank a few this and a few that. And maybe figuring, has I had sojourned in Sciacca these last few years, told me of his great-uncle ANTONELLO LICATA, a King amongst the Sciacca Fishing fleet who, back in the twilight of the last Century SAILED to SWEDEN and returned to Sciacca with a Fishing vessel powered NOT by SAIL but by an oil-fired engine....!!! Yet ALL Sciacca fishing vessels were SAILING crafts so the COMMUNITY descended on the harbour-porta, demonstrated, throwing ROCKS, detritus at this Cultural affront! There was a GREAT brouhahas! Yet Antonello...LICATA...won the day! He discharged a SHOTGUN...into the air!...momentarily quietened the ragazzi down...and convinced the Sciacca-fishing-fleet Community that with this new boat-powered-ENGINE, in a hurricane, violent storm, etc., UNLIKE with SAIL, the Fishermen, Community loved-ones, would return to Port SAFELY.
There was a lot of CHATTER, naturally... And  now, almost a Century later, Antonello-s great Nephew Accusio, promises to come by the next days for lunch with an old family Photo Album of those grand days of change!... My Goodness!!!!

I LIVE in Sciacca just off the via LICATA.... Death after Life. Rest after toil. PORT after Storm....doth greatly please. And SO it seems!


c2018.davedelacroix,murphys,sciacca,sicily.




Rest after TOIL, DEATH after Life, PORT after Storm...

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....DA NEXT MOTEL.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Da Next Motel.


THIS SIDE
of your AMAZING, awesome Love,
Suicide is outta bounds.
It-s pissin down with rain
and just WHOOOOOO
wants to die in this damp,

this SIDE of your ballistic, AMAZING
awesome Love...can U
LEND me some MONEY,
get a GREYHOUND to MEXICO,
maybe just Texas, maybe NEW Mexico,
the next Motel...

THIS SIDE of your Greyhound,
ballistic, awesome, AMAZING Love...
OUR 1st Love, the One that lasts!!!
All our Yesterdays
bleeding WEST at best.


c2018,davedelacroix. Tucumcari,Texas. Hitch-hiking to California.