Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "SORRY!!!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "SORRY!"

WE ARE THE "SORRY" MEN", second guess our every move. WE R the SORRY folks, walking on eggshells? We SAY "SORRY!", least five times an hour, sometimes with conviction, sometimes just passing by; WE say "Sorry/excuse a-Mio!" with every breath or sneeze.

We R the SORRY Dudes, doesn't matter for one & All. An Islamist Terrorist murders 20 of our kids, we fire a missile back & then...feel sorry? We say sorry on the phone, ordering a coffee at a kiosk, a sway in a queue for a theatre ticket, a bump in a Pub, gotta require a "Sorry", polite in the belief that Life is a game of Cricket.

WE R the SORRY folks, WW1, over the "TOP" armed only with a Swagger-stick! We R the SORRY RACE, dignified, mowed down in Ypres, 10,000! A Sorry BLOOD -thick as mud!..We R the Sorry BREED but our enemies will never-ever respect our creed...until we WAKE UP!!!

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "ORBIT!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "ORBIT!"

...ORIBIT OF THE GODS, our circum-non-navigation is MANIFEST, a random curse or just plain "good luck", we have come so far in our fallibility...in space & time?

In Switzerland, south of Basel, just above the famed "RICOLA"/herb-mouth mint factory, hitch-hiking, backpack, guitar, a lone roadside apple tree. I plucked off 4 & left the other 20 apples for whosoever might follow me...

By Torino, Italy near the FIAT car factory in a warehouse BAR (Ragazzos - MEN - ONLY/1975) the Friday night boys drank mucho Vino & sang their hearts out where 2 "chosen" Tenors sang: "O Sole Mio, etc." & the  (Fiat workers) 300 choir, the lads dutifully accompanied in perfect somber harmony; the Opera at "La Scala" in Milano, THESE GUYS? -their pain, resignation, love, passion without compare.

Hitch hiking across the Nevada desert, U.S.A., my throat parched, heat-stroke, but I managed a whistle brave & true. I was flailing. No water. It was getting Night, but a Hippy B/W bus stopped, gave me a ride to Las Vegas: Lights-Camera-ACTION! Free drinks. Free buffet. (Play BLACKJACK!) Strange things happen but sometimes it's true?

A Satellite of a Satellite zooming round the zodiac, orbiting round some ICON, man-made, never knowing. The Orbit of U.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Damascus."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Damascus."

DO YOU COME from Damascus, do U come from Rome, did U text me from America, did U message me all alone?

Did U SIGNAL an S.O.S. from Sweden, Beijing, Uzbekistan, Ceylon, do U feel all alone in your Internet zone?

Do U ever wonder just who U once WERE now talking to a ghost, in the dark, an alien spectrum, a place, an inner-ECHO, a stark...

Is there an Edvard Munch/painting SCREAM a 'tremble in your soul; do U hail from Damascus, do u hail from Rome.

Do U come from Ireland, a garden of songs? Do U sing of your homeland, far away now gone. Do U come from Damascus? U are not alone.

Do U sing of the rivers of Babylon where we all sat down. "It's cold out there, Baby." You'd better chill out.

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix; "THE MANDARIN."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix (a.k.a. on Facebook: David Michael Oxley): "THE MANDARIN."

(dedicato: Acountessa Carol Aniello)

"The Mandarin." (The fallibility of a JU-JU-Man)

..."Soldier" is on patrol, roaming the estate/compound. "Bela' "is  killin' geckos/bugs. (Names of my Pet Cats.) It's what OUR CATS DO. So, what do all U boys & girls of yesteryear FEAR, or for that matter, tomorrows horrors? Are we not FELINE protected! (Kharmic PURRS!) No worries.

 ...Pets, Cats, busy scratching/washing PURRING//patrolling? ...Yet a North wind SECRETS your psyche in knots, an Inter-net virus: "OUT DAMNED SPOT!" (Lady Macbeth having a tantrum!) Outside of an ASP, Cleopatra's ghost? ((Cats Anonymous?) or lack of valor? Handguns/.38 Specials not yet invented. Echos of your Opie's Film Noir or your Parents Disco years>

 Do you (dance) "Pogo" do you do "The Toaster! /up & down", the "LURCH"/kind-a Corpse-like, or the "ROBO"., the latter my fave. U adopt a zig-zag stance/stay put till the Disco fog song ends. No exertion needed. (Invented by William Houston from Texas), but AS for your Wars, trouble & strife...centuries before...

...an "Agincourt", A "Crecy" (your ancestors/ battles/long bows/arrow thingies) where English RAIDERS in their self-glory destroyed peaceful French farmers & raped their Maids/Meet the NEW BOSS-SAME AS THE OLD BOSS, new devils, new GODS, that low-life kernel of nature, people had to die (?) And devils in Life's fog... coughing the phlegm to spital, actuality for a viral "reason"?

... No coffee. Not even a decent cigarette! Misery always needs a friend. Form a Trade Union?  Gods un-needed. That SCREAM un-sound!!!

"Soldier" (my Cat) ...on patrol, no control. "Bela" (my other Cat) killing geckos, s-what CATS do. Outside of purring, S-what we morons do too! Propagation S-what's divinely engineered, celibacy not an option. Even the Virgin Mary got knocked up! Wondering if Mohamed had a decent sex life. No mention in the Koran. Allah-Akbah-nice to meet U! "No Intifada on MY "Shorties!" (Underpants)

I AM TIRED OF PISSING MY PANTS! -being NICE to strangers, listening to old songs, well-worn lyrics, that old fashioned -I'm an old-fashioned man, a MANDARIN who outta wisdom; some dude who lived too long. I have no future, but I fear for YOURS! 

Your mirrors, deception, epiphanies, delusions-galore! Your kisses vanish in memory, past fornications, gone with the wind, station to station. With/without U, can U STICK it alone. Can U STICK the cold, can U STICK the rain, usurped by THINKING loss & yet even LESS gain; diamonds, gold, emeralds that dissolve in your hands, abstract thinking, inside what is rare?

"ALLORS!!!"...A Maestro without a song. A Mandarin outta Truth! -it beguiles. Can U carve your name with pride? And all the Truth we've yet to know, as kisses tomorrows on lips unseen;  A'la Chaucer: "Rest after toil. Port after storm, death after life, yet Inter-net porn, occasionally, doth greatly please." A Mandarin in our time. A Poet without a rhyme. And there IS or lies our MYSTERY to un-wind, but hopefully with warmth & a smile.

c.2036. Dave Delacroix.

Our man in Paradise, BERLIN< Dave Delacroix, "BERLIN/This Side of Paradise."

 Our Man in Europe, BERLIN, Dave Delacroix: "This side of Paradise."

...This side of PARADISE, once, this side of the Berlin Wall, we had NO rules, WEIRMAR-TOPLESS in City parks, thought nothing erotic, blondes singing sonorous military songs in Berlin's fracture, yesterday's ruins, post war generations anthems or a "Whiter shade of pale."

This side of Paradise, the WAR-won, yet now threatened, a new bloody "fun"; America, China, that Putin-Clown in Russia - invading Ukraine - a breadbasket for AFRICA & just what can he gain: A domestic "HUZZAH!", Cossacks-galore till he discovers now educated Cossacks gone to Paris...and fell in love with Peace?

This side of Paradise, that throw away "FURR-BALL" hat. Gorky Park. No-one's in a rush to get back. As ISLAM/MULLAHS brainwash 5 times a day, people's OWN sense of faith will go their own way; this side of Paradise, "in shah-Allah", my faith belongs to me...leastways, on this side of Paradise. Just when will these greed-tyrants just let people BE?

(Singing:) For SHAME, for Shame! These Jackels FIGHT & Name! For a House divided cannot stand.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.,,,,, 

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "A Scoop of Youth/The Venus Flytrap!"

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "A Scoop of Youth." /"The VENUS Flytrap!"

...Enraptured, captured! Your juices at her command. No FIRE EXIT, no escape (WotchagonnaDO?). Paint her portrait or "postmortem" sculpture her likeness? Hauntings anew?

That Black Widow Spider, post-post intimacies where never ever-ever U can, can ever to begin; a deaths-head beetle skull engraved on your heart? Ambitious Genetics without a thought?

A Chrysalis, an evolving song to take U to Love's grave. A majestic SWIRL backpacked across the river Styx, to Hades, that dark Hotel California: YO! U can check out any time, but it never leaves U.

The Venus Flytrap, that succulent-verdant green with all its claw-spikes to pierce your loves eager blue-eyed greed & then to consume. Enraptured. Captured. Your juices at her command. That scoop of Youth.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "movies, "BULLIT" & "Catch-22!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "2 Movies, "Bullitt" & "Catch-22!".

"BULLIT!"

...The Man in his "Mustang, inseparable don't need no GAL to hold his hand. "Bullitt", some Cop on a mission from God... dodging life's gunfire, nailing down his Job, an odyssey of sorts, a vindication of Thought in a Mustang, super-charged, an effect of Cause?

The Man in his Mustang, the man at the wheel, a crusader of justice, no fear, no deceit, nor pander nor glory, a renaissance man who drives like the wind, a solo plan.

The man in the Mustang, a cinematic music score, the twists & turns/Shakespearian-lore. A WHITE Stetson, BLACK for the bad guys, no matter which ways it works, "Bullitt" wins.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Bullit-movie, directed by Peter Tates/starring Steve McQueen)

"CATCH-22!"

EUSABIAN-confused, WW2 bombing missions, flattening Italy, HISTORY! -killing civilians when U already got the Blues. Better U "fettucine-bomb" the fishes of the Sea; their farewell notes to wash later in the bay of Sorrento?

Eusebian-confused, perplexed when the General comes to his base along with his "aide du camp", legs up to her neck. (Groans-ensue!), And U ask: "the pathetic man, is this you?" Another generation, another WAR and the merchants of death salute your pathos. A Catch-22! The nature of War.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Catch-22 -movie, directed by Mike Nichols/with Orson Wells)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Dead Man's Plaid.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Dead Man's Plaid."

 ...Once again, I forgot my computer Password. We Non-Techies R in a morass of Communion Hell. Damned Zippo lighters on the blink too. My "rollie" cigarette got a serious droop. Yet MEIN GOTT! it's not supposed to be like THIS....I envisaged a lonesome/dilapidated rooming house/toilet down the hall, predictable background, friendless to demise (for all my acknowledged Sins) haunted by past loves, sleepless nights, a lone trumpet on a rainy boulevard, no way to communicate, friends, loves, man or beast, yet somehow, as sometimes, the World's YEAST curdles. 

Once again, GOBSMACKED into Hell. A labyrinth of indecision. Where goes the ebbtide of my inner rage, that powerhouse upon which I depended, now saying: "Arrivederci!" leaving me at the gate of nowhere, Palookaville! ...No map, no compass, no astrolabe, no day or night, nor a SUIT of dead man's Plaid, just an array of fright, a Dante's inferno where, as I plunge downwards, I briefly shake hands with past buddies, budettes, the fools & the clowns who - naturally, as I spiral/one way street - glad-hand, wish me well & "if it comes out kosher" will always welcome me back and say: "Ce sera-sera!", my story, OUR story...life's shallow wishing Well.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "BELIZE after Ten p.m."

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BELIZE after Ten p.m." 

...After TEN p.m./supposed to be quiet. Community rules. Kids asleep. That swimming pool mild. Palm trees ain't swaying. Local rowdies all a-bed. It might end up raining; the Cats quit their purring. Belize school kids' slumber/minds a-wondering whether the taught THREE "R's" (writing, reading, arithmetic) ever gonna make 'em RICH or at least a Hollywood star... 

After TEN, a motorcycle BARK, a Bartender checking out over on some street off the canal where neighbor's dogs fitfully sleep. And the birds in the tall pines, having previously, NOSILY-organized their tree- branch seating arrangements, semi slumber less an Iguana selects them for "petite desjunnez". (Fast food!) And all good maidens, good gentlemen too decide... tomorrow cannot come too soon. 

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Nine Tailors."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Nine Tailors."

(dedicato: Anita Johnson)

"The Nine Tailors."

...I'm da GHOST that never came back, that SILVER in your SHEFFIELD-STEEL, the one U loved, U thought real; not the Gigolos who lined up outside your Stage door.

I'm the Mandarin, the MANDRAKE magician w/flapping cloak, a mask, an anonymity, a life-specter. A GHOST on da beat!

I'm the Ghost that never comes back, that switchblade-MURDER, that Un-resolved Love; uncanny-intrinsic, the bottom of the Well. (Lotsa wailing!)

The Nine Tailors/Church Bells ring on out. Three bells for the death of a Lady yet a soccer crowd ROARS! -Alas your Ghost disappears. Nine Tailors bells a-ringing. Ghosts-anonymous. That midnight hour. The Ghost U knew who never came back.

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Tom Sawyer!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix (David Michael Oxley on Facebook): "TOM SAWYER!"

(dedicato: RUEBEN who like me made it to 70 years old.)

"Tom Sawyer!"

...Just a little bit Tom Sawyer, I hate to wash, rather swim in the Four Mile Lagoon/Belize with Dave Smith, a.k.a. "Huck Finn".

Just a little bit Tom Sawyer; cheat on my pals - U go paint the garden picket fence in exchange, my pet frog?

Just a "L'll" bit Tom Sawyer, a secret whisky "still" (Gurgle-bubble), nobody knows what Tom Sawyer knows. Esoteric? -unlikely.

Just a "L'll" bit Tom Sawyer, now an old man, a RIVERBOAT man, who these days navigates/fathoms the Mississippi depths, sandbanks & tides; "gimmie a fathom reading": MARK TWAIN!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "From the Mouths of Babes,"

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "From the mouths of Babes."

(dedicato: Danielle & Raechel/Aniello Family)

...The Mouth of Babes!

...From the mouths of Babes that PROFOUND, that kick U lost, before U RESOUND!?

 From the mouth of Babes, Peace -not WAR and all the slings/arrows U met before. From the mouths of Babes that equanimity, that UN-found land, a "Ponce de Lyon "wail.  the mystery of your Age, the fountain of eternal youth, a legend of yester-yore? The SMUCK U once were ...for a fool? (EL DORADO?) Or Coney Island?  Somebody else's gig?

From the DEAD mouths of Babes, gasping, NAZIS-Gas Chamber, showered to death, the MOUTHS of Babes still resonate in our Song; intrinsic, hollow ghosts, songs, gallows-burning from the Babes yet who still got a voice...with my mouth. You TOO if U can sing this song? A SHALLOM-forlorn. A Kibbutz somewhere, someplace. Less we forget. The Earth is hollow ground. Cyrus the Great died a long time ago.

From the mouths of Babes, Kids, misfits, skittle bodies who ran around/ PLAYED. Yet tomorrow's tyrants, tomorrow's SAINTS, tomorrow's-tomorrow, tomorrows fate. A twisting dyonic, a double-helix of greed, sometimes hate, that viral which absorbs/catches your make as the mouths of Babes to keep your keepsakes yet that Edga Allen Poe's "Tell Tale Heart "Will keep U awake. That turning of the screw. Dirt on dirt.

From the mouths of Babes. The mouths of Babes & ALL that is HOLY to EN-grace your place, residing as U are. Alive, U stake your claim...Fallible IS our Nature, ALACK-FALSTAFF!!! Put not your faith in Princes! The mouth of Babes to take U into adventure. What Song, what RING, what paradise or disaster.... From the mouths of Babes that PROFOUND, that kick U lost, before: U RESOUND!

c. 2026, dave delacroix.

Our Man in BLUE, Blue in Belize: "A patch of Blue."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize: "A patch of Blue."

(dedicato: Carol Aniello.)

"A patch of Blue."

...A patch of blue in your night-zazz red shoes. A patch of blue NEON in your red dress. A patch of blue: YOU! -swirling in your light. A patch of blue for U tonight!

A patch of blue, it's true; your SONG! A patch of blue SWITCHED to hover. A patch of blue, kisses-true no-one can ever take away. Your patch of blue. Makes U you.

A patch of blue, no yellow, reds, purple or gauge. No insulation of what the World observes. A patch of blue, swirling within, perhaps to un-furl-dragonfly, wings demystified to confound a World that doesn't understand.

A patch of blue. The ME? Mostly you. WotchagonnaDO: Snake eyes! No-longer -"handbags at twenty paces" but survivors' tales, songs of the sea & all of the PEOPLE we ought to be. What DEVIL made U or ME, looking for peace of mind? (Whisky-galore!) or some such.

A patch of blue, a patch of blue, perhaps an ENVY deep within. Where death ends. Where life begins. A patch of blue. Wotcha-GOT. Look at your shoes. And YES, who devils with our minds, an "un-kind" to poke, or twist, the curse of regrets, "a le recherche du temps perdu", (spiteful?) yet a kind-a blue.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. Our Man in Blue, Blue in Belize, in EUROPE, always Blue. KIDS R U?

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Rhapsody".

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: : "Rhapsody!"

 (SONG:) 'Ave U ever bin lonely, 'ave U ever bin blue, 'ave U ever bin star-cr0ssed, those kids in the dew? "Ave U ever bin NO-ONE, a file in the Time whence U knew no-one, no-one, a kiss for a mile?

 Have U ever been "desolate"-en francais, some cat outta sorts? Have U ever been lonely, that kid never sort. Stare your schoolyard NEMISIS, in the eye: "Back off or U'll know why!" A cold frontier, they know not why.

(They sense the ICEBERG in your lonely Soul.)

Did U ever have pigtails, boys pulled Em at will? Did U ever write Poetry, thru Ya will. Did U ever play Piano, alone at night. In that RAPHOSDY, some place U began...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Lady in the Lake." (RUSALKA.)

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Lady in the Lake." (Rusalka!)

CAN U SING ME YOUR tomorrow? Can U sing me your Blue? Can U sing me your regrets though they might be few. Can U sing me your triumphs, in the park, in the city, in the dark? Can U sing of the night-time when the dogs decide: "BARK!"? 

Yet a handsome Prince a-horse came prancing by?...

Can U sing me your ecstasy, a "needy" to please. An Adam/Eve, a place on a tree/with a snake, a 7 "easy-peasy" to please. Can U sing of your illusion, that Biblical We? The world in your pocket, that inner sneeze. 

Can U sing of tomorrow, that place in the sun. Can U RING or decipher, lost or torn. Can U sing of past glory, where do we begin? A Mermaid, a Prince entwined in the depths. A sacrifice of death.

Come sing me your tomorrow. Come bring me your heart. Come sing of tomorrow, UN-furl our today. the lady in the lake not long for this day.  we pine; we pine &...

...Can U sing me your tomorrow, a Debussy's" Clair de Lune", or Rusalka, composers Dvorak's fingers your notes. The kernel in your bud. Rusalka! That kernel in your fate. A handsome young Prince on a-horse came a-prancing by.

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "East of Eden."

 Our Man in Europe/Now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "East of Eden."

...THE WAILING OF WOMEN, WITCHES/BANSHEES to stir your BREW: AVAST! AVAST! U demons, let an old Soul lie still, to crumble, smolder like an old cheese-decay, an "Eve of St. Agnes", a Keats' Ode, a worship forgotten, a Poet's workshop's grind.

The platitudes echo on a CONCERT-night when everyone hugs U but there's no EYES insight, only them/U, just heads with blank eyes that stare thru U but U never know why? DAH!? (Edvard Munch's painting: THE SCREAM!) And kisses beyond all promises true, the price of your fame, then kicked by the roadside, lame. What were their names? My name? Yours too. All yours. Mine! Were they blue?

East of Edan where U find your Blue. Bros. GRIMM, Hansel & Gretal, a paper trail in the forest, a "whoosits-boogaloo" to take U by the hand, a stranger's hand, sometimes to befriend. No G.P.S., no inner kisses. The crux of semantic-enraptured Soul just where U first found it...when U were once whole.

The wailing of Banshees, witches at your door and the songs U have known I wish to never hear no more.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "South of Capricorn."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "South of Capricorn."

THE DEVIL MAKES WORK outta idle hands & if that son-of-a-bitch with the LOUD lawnmower doesn't quit soon, we talkin' 'bout justifiable HOMICIDE!

It's always tough when U actually find your "feng-shui" (peace of mind) but ya can't blame some Cat, found a way - mowing grass/looks like shit/looks like its bin left out all night/needs a trim -to make a Buck - homicide-Insurance, nevertheless it's always on the backburner (my TRIGGER finger is itchy!). Maybe it's a dream retirement illusion/plan, palm trees, smooth sea, clement weather, no bugs, far from the madding crowd?

The Devil makes work outta 'retirees"- minds (called Dementia) plagued by a life times' haunting, that never-forgetting specter, PROMETHEUS unbound. Such a sucker to get tied up, pecked at by a "murder of Crows" in the first place as all Men DO, leastways on a Paris fling with a "floozie"/lost weekend. It may be a Marital Sin but it ain't no crime? Still. Gotta hurt?

The Devil, that inner JOY, that intrinsic sluice that never quite bleaches your conscience, and South of Capricorn where they say the - sink/toilet - CIRCLES "lefty", a Devils foot to keep U on your toes; like writer Henry Miller on tiptoe before he got a dose. WOTCHAGONNADO!? Nobody knows. Better your "dick" falls off AFTER U die. Hopefully not before...South of Capricorn.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Super-Moon!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Super-Moon."

(dedicato: Carol Aniello)

When the Super-Moon is gone & U lost your Song & that longing feels like U don't belong, U can turn to Me.

When the tides gone out, your sailboat will never crest a wave, that kiss-a-wind, U can turn to Me.

When that silly-guile fails to smile, that Xmas tree fails to beguile? This time (betcha-boogie!) U can turn to Me.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize: "Cosi Fan Tutti!" (Après' Mozart)

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Cosi Fan Tutti!" (Apres Mozart)

DON ALFONSO & DESPINA ARE not dead, they're just sleeping within your desires, your passions, occasionally making mischief as all our good DEMONS are tempted to do.

Don Alfonso & the maid, Despina, the servants of our Souls; there to stir the bouillabaisse, a plate or 2 for your guests, the ones U choose, an EGO'S curry, yet just where does it lead; no-one knows: Arias abound! 

Don Alfonso & Despina, an entwined super-spy, the James Bond TWINS, Shaken AND Stirred to Rock & Roll your "droll" which plagues your platitude, an Eagle in a Cage; what classic duo could ever restrain your rage or stem the tide, beach footprints U left behind?

Don Alfonso & Despina. STEREO! Ear to ear! Calculus! Shaving cream! Pasta sauce! Do we ever go shopping/get all we need? Milk. Eggs! CONDOMS!!!...We always rely on a pretty song? "Cosi fan tutti", our crazy GIG, along with Shakespeare's "Hamlet", sometimes Love's grave we dig.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Deacroix: "QUO VADIS!?" (Which way?)

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "QUO VADIS?" (Which way?)

QUO VADIS!? CAN I GET U a Cheeseburger, a pit-stop, maybe some adult entertainment, leastways find some Sage to tell/sing a song of past Glories; my own Canvaserai, the camels R weary, I need a bath, U guys got a vacant room, taverna Via Alpina?

QUO VADIS? I may be arrogant, but I come from Damascus, DEATH never caught me there. There's a lot to be said for living out in the "boonies", no internet, no E-mail, no-one finds U there. The Devils Astrolabe is outta whack?

QUO VADIS? No G.P.S. No antique radar, old love letters neither received or sent, a dissolution of 'Affairs de Coeur', kisses unspent? Where do we un-wind when we're losing our mind, as love dissipates in the beer & the wine?

SINGING: "Solomon & Sheba we sing thru the night! Solomon & Sheba we sing thru the night! Queen Dido of Carthage was she just a Dyke! Cleopatra is dead, a Cobras bite! Tra-la-la!"

QUO VADIS? - A new day under the Sun, that longest night... never to find the dawn... in all its rapture, in all its bleak light; a Winters tale, a shadow's blight. I heard guys played FARO-4 days straight! Only a fool to ignore Love's might.

QUO VADIS? Any which way but loose, a Mandarins prophecy, a Rabbi's scroll. A Bhudia's mantra, a Viking Saga-chant, a Cheeseburger pit-stop, an eternal song. Is nothing wrong? Will it ever end? The genetic double-helix gone to whoosits? Hearts un-wound/always spaghetti?

QUO VADIS? QUO VADIS? I sing U a song. A repetition, a echelon that echoes ANON. Not belonging to ME nor unique to your Soul, the STUFF of existence, the kick to your goal. Quo Vadis, Saint Whoosits, a voice in HIS God-mind said QUO VADIS (turn around), went back to Rome...to martyrdom. 2,000 years later? We sing his song...

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe. Dave Delacroix: "It's not Unusual.."

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "It's not Unusual."

IT'S NOT UNUSUAL TO GET STABBED in the back. a Borgia Prince ever ready. It's not unusual (your wife) to find lipstick on your collar. Where-a-way, a song in your heart & no money in your pocket?

It's not unusual, restless at night, haunted, doubtful dreams, NIGHTMARES, which scream: "BE-JEEZE!", ya gotta AWAKE and prowl the floor: No money in your pocket. (Bitch left me!)

It's not unusual to go ROAM THE WORLD to find the SELF OF U, never find (alas!) or wallow in some "self-divine" or rue the day U got a clue? (Even LESS money in your pocket) Outta Biscuits!!!

It's not unusual, any day, when U kissed goodbye to all U knew; ICARUS not with-standing, U flew too close to your own personal Sun... Aloe Vera/WAX WINGS/Max Factor cosmetics wears too thin!

...As wings dissolve, a silent fall, musical chairs, when the song ends, a throne/high table or a stool below the salt. (She'll never come back) It's not unusual to get stabbed in the back, that Borgia Prince in the mirror.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "NO WORRIES!!!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "No Worries!"

(dedicato: Lady Caroline Aniello)

NO WORRIES! ALL WE DID was scratch on the universal chrome, a kiss blown in the wind, a situ. beyond tragic comedy, perhaps the Gods chuckled, exchanged heavenly Bitcoin for a Dime?

No worries; a lack of ZEN (Yen?), that "Yin-Yang"-Pheng-Shui, the peoples "groovy Tuesday", an antiseptic for your Soul, an Aloe Vera for your sunburn?

No worries. Battles lost? Does it matter when U meet your MAKER, CONFESS, I was a "Toss!" -Jesus don't mind, least U gave it a try, eggs broken/omelet-made, some bouillabaisse?

 -like too much water in your Scotch whisky, something to ruin your day, that thing with every yesterday we all throw away.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. Happy New Year Kids.