OUR MAN in EUROPE/now in BELIZE: (Song!): "U cannot drink the Wine Cellar dry!"

 

Our Man in Europe/ now n BELIZE: (Song!): "U cannot drink my Wine Cellar dry!."

U cannot drink my wine cellar dry "apres morte"? But Friends will endeavor to persevere?

AVE DAVE! Ave Mortality! AVE that last bowl of SOUP on a Winter's Day or the KICK-INSIDE

of Friendships/LOVES, a Springtime betrayal haunting the life-spine of your boog-a-loo?

WHO sucks your VENOM? Stored where? Who RE-christens your perfect psalm, makes it less holy, presented, to critics, sycophants, fools?

Who caps your bitterness, wisdom, yesterday's love or smile?

U cannot drink our wine cellar dry, "apres morte" nor augment celestial spheres! Mortal coils & Dusty Death's skeletal grin into your Vintage, success, failure, rich or poor, "apres-morte" vino to share?

U cannot drink my wine cellar dry: AVE YOU! Do your best. Anacreon (Greek Songster) in heaven & I will salute U!

c.davedelacroix. OUR DUDE someplace. may 2024. 

OUR MAN in EUROPE, now COROZAL-BELIZE, Dave Delacroix (a.k.a. David Michael Oxley, aged 68 w/throat Cancer): THE DEAD of FACEBOOK!

 

Our Man in Europe/Belize, Dave Delacroix: THE DEAD of FACEBOOK.

The Fb. FACEBOOK (500 zillion people/ lots ARE now DEAD) the multitudes, a testament of Internet TIME? Fotos, AWESOMES, sunsets, dawns-breakin with ANTS-nano-attention-span resolve (Dear Diary, weather was nice?) Portraits of houseplants, Cats, Dogs, Iguanas; latest recipe, Bar-drunks, sober, old Pals, fucks U'll never meet again, TUXEDO, non-sartorial in sickness & IN-health, Politico-Social-NON-smoking-WOKE-Masturbation thoughts? -that 15 second fame to elicit: "Dat's awesome!!!", "Can we MEET in person/fuck?", "WISH-whatever!?"responses?

The DEAD of FACEBOIK. Seriously NOT On-line, dead-as meat, MOULDING or ASHES? No Black armband. MILLIONS R ALREADY DEAD!!! DEM DAT'S NOT!? IMOJI-Central. Sucking at your NECK or noting...like FACEBOOK...your logistics & tomorrow's Blackmail. A new NIGHT? Do we laugh, our folly; the night is long that never finds the Day. But DO CLICK AWAY! The DEAD (R.I.P.)  of FACEBOOK...now so far away and their "sea of troubles" splash like summers rain on your beloved's morning face?...If she AIN'T guilty of something?

And just WHO (Poet RILKE) if I cried out would HEAR ME!? The Dead of Facebook. Whispering their IMOJIS, "Awesomes", "Hugs!" or "Caring" from ALL Mortal's tomorrow's bourn? WE could YAK all night. But with the DEAD, the NOW "passed-on" of Facebook, conversation, like Fotos of your CAT, immemorable. NO collective WOUNDING! We DANCE in different DISCOS, a Guitar Bluesman & a Techno Keyboarder trying to reconcile their Beethoven collective? Poor old LUDWIG. Cheap-ASS APPS abound; Cocoa-Cola diluted. Water more expensive than a single Malt and a brave new world!

OK!!! Who's got the bloody BEER!!!?

davedelacroix, corozal, belize, CINCO da Mayo: May, 2024. (publish & be damned!)

OUR MAN IN Europe, USA, Belize: "The Early Years" No. 1: ANACREON/Open Casket.

 

OUR MAN in Europe/USA/BELIZE: "The Early Years" No.1: ANACREON/Open Casket!

...I had an open casket, a secret request...so I could see the fuckers who HELD a mirror to my mouth (I'm CORPUS/I wasn't breathing?) no sign of LIFE or JIMBO who stabbed me in my left EYE - I did not flinch! - and the GALS (expectant of my Last Will/Testament $$$?) smeared-lipstick, CURSED ME, stuck a KNITTING NEEDLE in my groin/testicles/missed my good-left NUT and one/TWO left a pitiful POEM: "U left, OFT, like a Dude-star?

JIMMY showed up and spilled his JACK DANIELS all over the Floral tribute of Tulips, coffin, my TUX; some KID - I didn't know? - he was a FAG, tried masturbating ON my Corpse? Pete & Steve dragged his Ass outta the Chapel. I guess it was kind'a weird, but dead & gone, a Bob Dylan song echo? The answer is blowing.

My DEATH? I had an OPEN CASKET, mellow ORGAN chapel music, the LAST atmosphere this Ol Boy had ever wanted or experienced but, S'what folks' thought were apropos? Eventually? My ASHES in a MASON JAR. No worries.  Muscle-fillet, head-strong, psychotic to ASHES; to ANACREON, Greek Poet, we raise our glass to THEE, TIME-consumed, now has EATEN ME; devoured to eternity! Relax. Mortal END-game1

I had an open casket. ANACREON-remembered! But who'll remember U or Me, the Pussy U stroked or how U liked your carrots & peas?

c.davedelacroix/David michael oxley, Jan. 2024. Corozal-Belize.