Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Walk in the park."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Walk in the Park."

...THE LONELINESS, absolute lonesomeness of a Girl walking out with her Dog. DOG? He doesn't know nothing, the GAL, she knows too much.

...A compound, a compendium of Hope/Regrets; that Lifestyle which soldiers into a Spring of ECHOES; copper-bottomed, but never to leave that Gal alone.

The loneliness of a Gal with a Dog. No cries. No tears. No madly-barking. No welp, no sigh. Just a misty morning, sometime U might, see? A young lady, dog on a leash. Walking in the park.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belixe/Dave Delacroix: "SPLISH-SPLASH!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "SPLISH-SPLASH!" (I was taking a bath!)

,,,DO NOT GO "SPLISH-SPLASH" into your swimming pool, IF U HAVE ONE, into this Good Night? (Sinister music orchestration!) Maybe a baby Crocodile ducked in overnight? Or a Literary Critic? (So best call the Pool Guy.) VACUUM! VACUUM! VACUUM!

Do not go BUY a Tavern's "Ragazzi's" their last rounds, supposing U have the Ducats, at the 11th hour, then opt to stagger home alone? Wanna be a Target!? Or recite, arms flailing, "DAS CAPITAL", Karl Marx? Another reason to get drunkard/Mugged. ISLAMIC THUGS R everywhere; bored too of grooming/ raping our Christian Children?

Do not promise "eternal love" to some GAL U cannot finance nor sustain (HAFIZ, PERSIAN POET/Pre-ISLAM fanatics, he writes:) "Do not play with a Tiger's Cubs nor rob a Woman of her illusions!" (A cone of Ice Cream on a hot day IS an option.) U don't need an Iman's call to know which way the wind blows? C'Mon! Highland BAGPIPERS!!! Blow their Iman-Minarets hollering's away!!!

Do not (Edvard Munch Painter:) SCREAM for a role in a Hollyweird B-Movie: "Faster-Pussycat-Run!" (Sans-Muslim-Fashion-HIJABS!) or to try out as a TRAFFIC COP in MUMBAI; trust me. U'll get run down without a Hindu thought? (A gridlock of sacred cows or tuskless ELEPHANTS is a reprieve?) Luckily, DECESASED, U don't get cited with a traffic violation. Or in Shah-Allah!

Do not worry 'bout your destiny, DEATH'S RIDER in Babylon - U SAW! - he will still greet U in Samara! There's no shirking your Tomorrow. Biblically, Death rides a Pale horse or an M1A1 TANK! Perhaps, "in esse", and I too burnt all my bridges, but my bridges - no retreat! - burnt for me? And across the river, what now does Death itself need? A coin for the Ferryman?

Do not go gently - SPLISH-SPLASH! - into your "own personal Jesus/your own personal SWIMMING POOL"...if U have one, a NO-GO into your "Goodnight"? ... Another Universe awaits which, yet we STILL cannot comprehend. An origami of the mind: Icons, Scriptures, chants to fill empty Souls; the Argonauts in search of a Golden Fleece?

 97 Virgins, the last I heard was the reward for Islam Suicide bombers under 18? ...In MY Christian/West European culture finding JUST ONE (Virgin?) was considered "pretty groovy" & U got to stalk away in your LEVIS & - goddammit! - write a Song!!!

 Popular songs, a.k.a.: BISCUITS: "Stairway to Heaven", "I wanna hold your hand" which of late we still knaw on till the big sleep. And of late, MEGA-TRON, Taylor Swift, aping, projecting feeling a 'la Minerva (Goddess of Poetry) like a whiter shade of pale. The Dumbing down, not only of America, Western Europe, but dumbing down divides us all; just WHO (Rainer Maria Rilke/German Poet writes:) "Who in the order of ANGELS will save us?"

But I digress: (Whilst listening to Barry Manilowe's pop song: "Her name was Lola. She was a showgirl, at the hottest spot north of Havana, at the COCA"...ad-nauseum)

MEANWHILE:  SPLISH-SPLASH, (I was taking a bath!) perhaps I thought I was Errol Flynn, cutting a swashbuckling movie dash, once upon a time when I dived - SPLISH-SPLASHED - into that Swimming Pool... There HAD to be FUN, somehow, someplace, with SOMEONE; the ripples in the swimming pool, now predictably ERASED! But NO REGRETS - well, SOME! but rest assured, I like U... will someday be replaced by voices, like ourselves who'll - Splish-Splash! - also sing to the moon.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Give Me 5!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Gimmie 5!!!" (Après classic song: "Bie Mir Bist du Schoen/My Dear Mister Shane.)

"GIVE ME 5!!!"

Gimmie-5, sweetheart. Gimmie 5 to START for whad-I-got to say to U; please gimmie 5!!!

Gimmie-5, my Love, I woz late for our Date. A friend (long lost) came, by surprise, a tumbleweed moment into town?

Gimmie-5 my dove? She didn't mean anything to me? But the apple never falls far from that damned biblical-EDEN apple tree?

...And it's really not my name (Or Mr. & Mrs. Smith) on that MOTEL register; gimmie-5 & I'll explain!

Gimmie-5! (Sweetheart) Gimmie-5 YOUR HEART! A yesterday's affair: Gimmie-5 & I'll explain!

(Singing:) ...I say now Bela-Bela, U know I love U. There AIN'T NUTTIN I wouldn't-DO-for YA!... 

Alas! (Pant-pant!) The night is long that never finds the day, but it's WITH U I want to stay? Gimmie-5!

 Gimmie-5 just to start? Whad-a-ya got to say? Gimmie-5! I KNOW that I am not worthy; but if U please? Just give me FIVE!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (WE R always guilty as Sin!)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ICE WALL!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ICE WALL!"

...YOU R ONLY LONESOME WHEN U DIE, but mostly, absolutely LONELY when U R alive. Funny how that works? Ask anyone. But not a Soul confesses. (Beatles song: All the lonely people.)

U, actually, R quite FRIGID; new clothes, new auto, new-whatever, dancing gaily, pretending TO BE for the sake of Societies' needs? (A Life-survival-necessities of: WOTCHAGONNA-DO!?) Saturday Night & Sunday Morning?

...There IS no TO BE or NOT to "whoosits" (Hamlet's problem.). We wear costumes, talk-hipster/always one eye on the $$$! & like thieves we rob our own Souls. It's the easy way out. Better THAT than face the ICE WALL of nothingness, the Universe.

(Singing:) Mary-Mary, quite contrary. How does your garden grow? -With Silver bells & cockle shells, despite being absolutely STONED, somehow all in a row! Whilst she's getting KNOCKED UP by the assistant Gardner: Poetry in motion!

Still. For the rest of us? It's ONLY lonesome when U die. It's only lonesome when U expire "sans" a Cellphone. No digital communication & that inner terror of feeling alone. Ask anyone! And good luck, if U have a real friend...beyond the Ice Wall...who'll listen to your Confession!

(Gotta feeling, surgically connected to your "handy" U might be put "on HOLD!"/Musak-playing...)

The ICE WALL!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/a.k.a. David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "TEST-TACKLES!!!"

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/a.k.a David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "TEST-TACKLES!"

(dedicato: Brian Pavlic.)

"Test-Tackles!"

...DON'T FRY BACON in the NUDIE or U might gonna catch a SPARK nor forget to wear an L.A.P.D. (L.A. Cops) Velcro-Bullet Proof vest, specifically, wrapped around - ham-strung - your TEST-TACKLES!

DON'T - first Date? - kiss her on the mouth. That last second/the PIMPLE on her lips/U noticed before closing your eyes; just what was her last date, now sucking U way down South?

...But it's only a Samba, a LIMBO-MAMMA. U take your chances, some romantico G.P.S. Remember what your Mommie said: "Better a cup of Cocoa & a good night's sleep, better that than a night on the town!"?

(No-one will EVER learn of course:) 

Don't fry Bacon in the Nudie. Your TEST-TACKLES, pretty much is all ya got!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

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

(Après the 1960s PROCOL HAREM hit song, "A whiter shade of pale".)

"Pontius Pilot."

...WE SKIPPED/TRIPPED (jumped out a 3rd storey window whilst on LSD/Acid?) the light fandango, did the "POGO/The TOASTER" across the floor? I was feeling kind of homesick. The crowd roared out: "Migrants go home!" (This was in Manchester/1970s/I was from Sheffield.) I was ONE of 16 Vestal-Virgins -wearing a Chicken's "Parsons Nose". And it's SO HARD, despite everything, to be a Sex Symbol as U & I both know.

...But that's ALL IT WAAASSS, a play on words, a propaganda short & sweet. Nobody ever gets to WIN in Love or that Hollyweird sordid grasp for Fame when U try to make your Name? And FAME sea-sick don't get U a PASS; fake death? That's just lame. (The Lombardo's divorce still racking up the credits!)

She said there IS no Reason, on Facebook where we met? Neighbors/Internet Door-to-door & I soon realized what an Un-holy bore she was? So, I DID a "Pontius Pilot", I'm not sure which airline I flew for & executed my sinful ablutions & sent them down the LOO?... Sometime even an IDIOT has to do what he has to do?

But that's ALL IT WAASSS! - The Play's, the thing? A match to burn, the Conscience of a King? A voyage-Romance, passing ships in the night, a passion play, a propaganda, a story, short & sweet!

...NOBODY in "Hollyweird" ever saw their ASS for Ducats. Too busy hunting down their own immortality. That friendless, ruthless destiny, ignorant; already got one foot in the grave! And now OLDER, wiser, I now dance, skip-trip/DO DAH TOASTER! -across some parquet floor. And yes, it's SO hard to be a Sex Symbol as U & I both know...

...This OBSESSION with washing my HANDS however is becoming "Hollyweird"! -I may need to seek out an equally crazy Therapist!!!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...PAPPA GOT A BRAND-NEW razor. Pappa got a brand-new GIG. But the tufts of his greying beard, last seen, he gotta a SMILE just like in his YOUTH.

Pappa got a brand-new BAG, goes by the name of "BANJO!". He plays it night & day. Even the neighbors R complaining! My younger siblings, like "Mummers" (silent actors) in a play? Wondring-bout their tomorrow! Destiny's illusive face?

Pappa got a new brown bag. Pappa got a new LIFE! (he) Buzzed off to Chicago, became a hipster MUSIC-MAN, & we never got wind of him since, till - in the PRESS - he had a hit song: "Lucille!" (My mother's name...)

Pappa got a brand-new Razor. Pappa got a brand-new GIG; where-as I now see my aging Momma, slaving in our local South Arkansas brick laundry building, fading, like our clothes & rags she washes daily, day by day to keep on having to think.

I hear it's the SAME via the town's Library-public Internet service IN ENGLAND, Europe, faraway? A family abandoned for some fickle "Rock & Roll" fame? A Man with a plan, a Guitar, THUNDERBIRD auto and a pocket comb?

But "in ONUS" just who stays behind? Who to stand, Sons & Daughters, by their planted seed? Not to mention who KEEPS your town, your Village-green; who sweeps the Cities SEWERS! - a Song of sacrifice? - Certainly not the Man who wrote "Lucille!".

Pappa got a brand-new Razor. Pappa got a brand-new Bag. Pappa got everything he needs except the Kids he left behind & a noble LADY, thrown into No-Man's Land, yet a haunting Conscience; but what good is THAT for a sweet Gal named "Lucille."

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix; "The Ancient Mariner."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Ancient Mariner,"

...MAYBE IT WAS YOUTH'S "Agusto!" (passion)? Maybe it was our D.N.A. that launched us into this WILD WORLD, but, latter days, "Davy Jones Locker" a-chained to our backs? I don't much talk to Strangers anymore.

And maybe it's the ZODIAC, solar planets out of sync? An Astrolabe/Navigation miscalculation, too much Rum! But, probably, in MY case, failed love affairs in Port-O-Prince or Bristol fashion: S-why I don't much talk to Strangers anymore. (Especially women from Swansea!)

ONCE! A Brother above all brothers! I was valiant & sailed the seven seas. But now marooned on the lee shore in some foreign land where Strangers I don't heart-felt, welcome. What mortal castaway can absorb distance eternal? Robinson Crueso?

Like Ulysses at the end of Days; just who knows: TIME! That God of Gods! Implacable! Cares NOT for who or what was. And as for Strangers, I, being marooned, no longer hang out in portside bars & taverns. Bordellos, a distant memory. But I miss the chorus of a "Sea Shanty!"

...Now? My fingernails seem always dirty. I don't now shave but once a week. Every time I - these futuristic days - read a sincere Internet Post I crack up in laughter & wish U all calm seas?

And water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink/ ocean-current chased by metaphors: "Think!", "Gone down the SINK!" Or "the DEVIL'S DRAM/last whisky in the barrel!" A whirlpool of insight: John Donne/Poet: to search/advance an honest mind not to CAP with The Bard's, To BE or not to Be? - That Sea of Seas.

...I gotta Song IF THERE IS a Song. It takes a lifetime, rudderless, to know what IS COOL or what is downright wrong...Less said, yet without melancholy, I don't much talk to Strangers, my old Shipmates, anymore... This affidavit, signed by my own hand, who never ever received "the Black Spot", DAVY, an ancient mariner.

c.2026.Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Whistler!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Whistler!"

...I PAINTED - WATERCOLOURS - MY SHADOW, my silhouette, an optical imago on the turquoise/blued bed of my swimming pool, octagonal sunlight reflections & that my subterranean EYES, wide open, I saw there... two people, the previous evening, a suicide pact/the Pool Guy, late for his pool cleaning Gig & I (my morning swim) dove in anyway, not being of a superstitious or nervous disposition. ...Now the DEAD have been removed. COPS, Ambulances, flashing light stuff. I never live, co-habit or SWIM with Corpses; leastways in my own Swimming Pool? Would YOU? -No need to respond.

Too little, too late, a 'la that DAZZLE, an epiphany to those close at hand? My other Chateaux-Pelican Guest Villa guests scattered like Baptists at a non-alcoholic wake, those of ISLAMIC faith, tired of bouncing their forehead - 5 times a day/pointing to MECCA - wherever the frick THAT is! -on the Villa's gravel forecourt did the same thing"? I HAVE heard some Hotel horror stories, B&B nightmares but TWO STIFFS in the swimming pool - Guinness record? - gotta award a blue ribbon, YA THINK?

...Like a WHISTLER in the wind, a Song now sung, now gone with the wind & every morning U brush your teeth and yes, U need to shave.

I painted my shadow, my silhouette, an optical imago on the turquoise/blued bed of my swimming pool; octagonal-sunlight reflections dance before my eyes as I saw before me, EYES WIDE OPEN, I saw my own self there!

I still paint in Watercolors & whistle whilst I work. But close friends have observed my paintings' have a tint of grey.

c.2o26, Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Queen of Belize!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Queen of Belize."

...WHEN YOUR DAY IS DONE, when your GLORY DAYS have disappeared, do NOT despair. WITHIN your Treasure of memories, joys & sorrows, that suitcase of experience which U launched - as we sometimes do - like a message in a bottle - launched into the bay of Corozal?

When your Day is done, your ovalis, depleted, menopause, your beauty fading, suitors no longer E-Mail/Facebook messages dried up? Your Grand Children dragging your skirts to the floor but that SAMBA in your Soul, never gonna let U go? (And the Kids R OK!)

When your Holly-weird sense of fashion boardwalk fame IS OVER, do U fade or DO U FLAME into that majestic Lady whose ROBES U were destined to wear... New Shades, new shimmy-shammy dress/I can still TANGO with the best? "WATCH-ME!!!"

When they DAY is done, yet sometimes NIGHT, a comfort zone, suggests, my Lady, U might have won! As for TEARS; no need. A Life. Not always a breeze. A salute...for the Queen of Belize.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. /Decication/cognoscenti/not necessary.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The DA-VINCI CODE DECIPHERED!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The DA VINCI CODE DECIPHERED!"

...IT'S NOT ALL BAD BEING the Town Drunk though one DOES get to be a tad infamous for raising a few eyebrows especially amongst the communities, church-going Spinsters?

It's not ALL bad yet occasionally getting "pilloried" in the village-green "Stocks", getting pelted with rotten fruit & Veg, by respected citizens-"Les Mistons!", drug dealing kids in need of a de-tox reality spell to unleash their inner (lactating?) confusion?

It's not ALL bad being the Town Drunk. For One, I have open access to the keys of my own "drunk tank" jailhouse Cell (Andy Griffith's show), no reservation required! -where I can sleep-off the Nights "load" & not get yelled at by "she who must be obeyed" at HOME, quietly a-waiting like a Black Widow Spider, and in her previous Life (Reincarnation?) U gotta wonder? God know why I married her or she, ME!

It's not ALL bad, overqualified, Town Drunk specifications - YES; I just checked IN to see what condition my condition was IN? And? Yes! AND! -I once educated the locals how to effortlessly grind GRAIN. "Use Mommy Nature!" I said, holding my wet thumb into the breeze, the WIND: "It's called a Windmill!" I might have added, "Get cracking!"? -THAT didn't go down well...

...My designs for a helicopter, Submarines, Satellites, and especially a HOT AIR BALOON (Zeppelins), lord KNOWS, folks round here R full of it? Anyhow, my ideas were cursory considered, judged quite ridiculous & deemed insane/I was un-employable, so I graduated to the high office of Town Drunk: Where U now find me, painting landscapes, writing poetry, TWIX LIBATIONS thus I execute my life. "O sole mio?" not a bit of it. Mostly, with wine, I have a good time!

As for the future, when I'm dead & assuredly GONE? I hope someone will say a prayer, a Kaddish for me? A legacy OF existence. The Town Drunk who walked amongst Ye & attempted to discover Mommy-Nature's divinity; a purpose for ALL, above the treadmill of your chosen indenture or the swings & arrows of outrageous fortune!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Papillion!" (Après Dylan Thomas.)

...DO NOT GO BENTLEY into dat ROLLS-ROYCE night! The Old Boy Club/Class system will not invite U into their "high-hat" cannibalism, Conservative Grandees; baby, U don't have a chance a 'la Thomas Hardy's "Jude the Obscure".

Do not go DAIMLER though U rage, RAGE against a tempest of social disadvantage or write what U SCREAM! Better U fire up an old Spitfire/M.G. Afterall, your Gal is happy, hair blowing in the wind in the passenger seat, in love; what more could U need?

Do not go Bently into that Rolls-Royce night; elegant cufflinks, Tie pins, a diamond - just the one - earring? Worth nothing when U R a corpse. And don't advertise, Crematoria-personnel/grave robbers abound!

...I saw, actually, in my travels, many times a Gal. White dress. Fancy free. Faint heart never won fair maiden. But I never in fact met her, situ., on crowded trains, some German "fuss ganger zone" whilst busking/poor boy, strumming my guitar? I never busied up to her, happy, just to be a witness of her gay delight. Needless to say, to this day SHE still Butterflies, an eternal IMAGIO in my mind.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Gatsby's afternoon."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Great Gatsby's afternoon."

...REGARDING HOUSE GUEST KAREN: "I'm offended by your Political Views, in addition, your body odor, post swimming pool, U stink of chlorine & U R NOT wearing Chanel No. Whoosits. It's insufferable!!!" (This was prior to GATSBY getting SHOT! -as per F. Scot-Fitzgerald's novel, semi portrayed in David Hockney's painting: A BIGGER SPLASH!))

(Back to House Guest KAREN:) "I'm offended by your lack of acknowledgment of my frail dynamic, my wishes & whims! Don't U understand what I'm going thru!? MEIN GOTT! I COULD be ovulating!?"

(She goes on:) "I'm also SERIOUSLY offended by..." this is followed by a TOME of listed complaints as the Great Gatsby, prior to being assassinated, doing his best to slouch by the swimming pool on a tropical, Saturday night, is - thank God/ calls herself TALLULAH, a "FLAPPER-going on COUGAR", is when she leaves.

(Wotchagonna-DO?) House guests R always welcome/old saying: After a few days, the place smells like fish. And the sweetest moment, hopefully, good humoredly, is WHEN they leave:

 A day in the Life of the Great Gatsby before some lunatic took his life. Or so the alternative story goes! Gotta figure it was an absorbent, busy day? Pity how it played out... like a shadow in the Sun...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "North by North-West!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/small country by Mexico/Dave Delacroix: "North by North-West!"

(dedicato: Mah-Babee, Carol Aniello & QUEEN NADIA, Chicagoan & Mayoress of Ranchito, Belize.)

"North by North-West!"

MAH BABEE DONE GONE BACK to the U.S. of A., but alas, (Song by Dave van Ronk/1960s/covered by Bob Dylan:) "Baby let me follow U down." due to (Donald Trump) Immigration VISA complications, I cannot do! And I DO BELIEVE that DONALD for new-baby Christenings is of now as un-popular as ADOLF!!! (Go figure.) HITLER of course never requested his likeness added to Mount Rushmore though his moustache might have aided Carey Grant's cliff-hanger in the HITCHCOCK movie, "North by Northwest"! But I digress...

...MAH BABEE DONE GONE (today) back to "the home of the brave & the land - aha! - of the Free". But I cannot follow her. Actually...er...the fact IS I in-advertently over-stayed my Tourist-Visitor's VISA by 27 YEARS (I assure U/purely a clerical over-sight on my part) all the while, recording several CD's, playing Gigs, festivals, Roadhouses, cafes & Bars, appearing on T.V. shows, busking on the street and I DID make it back to Europe once or twice and rarely - hitch-hiking w/guitar - had problems with America's "finest" (Cops!)  though I DID get thrown into the "drunk tank" (overnight stay) once in a while (Denver, Jacksonville-Fla., Nashville-Tennessee, Delacroix-Mississippi comes to mind?) but those "Barney Fife's", airport Immigration "Wooden-Tops", Raleigh-Carolina, recently Computerized, had my "drunk tank" BIO done to rights: Third time USA re-entry, DENIED...And I SO HATE negativity? But I digress...

MAH BABEE DONE GONE BACK to "Trump-Land", for a while & (aged 70!) I'm sad & lonely though I'm THINKING - North by North-West - she's gonna be back here - in BELIZE - real soon!... I LOVE the opening soundtrack of that Movie by the way? North by Northwest?... But once again...I digress...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix/on Facebook: David Michael Oxley. See Y-all on Campus!

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Yesterdays Ghosts!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Yesterdays Ghosts!"

...JUST WHO/WHERE R THEY our yesterday's Ghosts who nightly haunt our dreams; what uncanny-diabolic, a river of regrets (?) flood our latter-day waking schemes? (I AM NO IAGO!!!) A Confession?

Just WHO R these ghosts of yesterday. We have robbed, flinched & indirectly murdered OR romantically " A BOUNDER" but why should we be hounded; certainly, not sent to the GUILLOTINE!?U didn't get her pregnant?

UNCANNY lies the map of a Man's MIND, it's twists & turns, its eclectic sinew that resolves: an altruistic or moral conflicted bind? Where & HOW yesterday's Ghosts fester, un-afraid to worry a Soul to the marrow, (Un-spoken/Mac-somebody by Shakespeare) a Scottish Play!

"OUT! OUT! DAMMED SPOT! My TITS MILK turns to GALL -Vinegar!" (Early T.V. Murderer's confession/Law & Boredom series etc. never used. Pity!)

And THERE we lie, awake at night. Not enough SHEEP to count & keep saying: "Not Guilty." In this supernatural existence.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Midnite Lady!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Midnite Lady!"

...I DON'T GOT NO MIDNITE LADY anymore; late at night she doesn't answer my calls: her REAL boyfriend is sometimes always at home? (HE, answers the phone!?)

I don't got NO "Witchy Way Woman" (Eagles-song:), these days, she don't answer her phone; not necessarily a heartbreaker: her lipstick on my pillow! (Her scent still fills my room?)

I don't got no Midnite Lady anymore but YEARS before, I was a Champagne-toast in a taciturn Love but then she became a Ghost? (A twilight of loneliness can usurp a Soul?) "Tra-la-la!" -Who she loves/where she runs?

She was a Midnite Lady, a Moths flight into My light, a sexual existentialist that dissolved in our night. A Midnite Lady no longer in sight. My Midnite Lady. My Lady of the Night!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where our GLORY lies..."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where our Glory lies!"

...EMANCIPATED KIDS, we Used to call them Rock & Rollers, BLUES MEN PUNK GALS, MOHICAN HAIRCUTS!! Punk Rockers! London! Trafalgar Square! But now? IN PERSIA/IRAN/AFGHANISTAN why would U even to bother to VACUUM/SAVE EM? What HAS their Geographical/Cultural SEWER become/"By the Rivers of Babylon, where we sat down?" ...Gold, Frankincense or Mer? A hidden shrine of Zarathustra!? Where the DIGNITY of Girls & WOMAN R CUT DOWN!!!

HIJABS wear SPIES, SPIES wear HIJABS! Wotchagonna-DO? And there was ME thinking "Cross-Dressing" began in the Bowery district, Manhattan, New York City or Weimar-Era Belin before the NAZIS started building Germany's Autobahns?

NO NATION can conquer a country, which, essentially in "Western European Terms" is a geographically CULTURAL INSANE ASSYLUM but their mountainous, on the GO Cuisine, chopped Lamb & Basmati rice is not to be dismissed? Cuisine or a national Football game will always reduce/dilute HATE & stop the bullets flying? (Middle East/Jews-Arabs/ conflict-thingy/funny how that works?)

Emancipated KIDS, aged 12, Emancipated HIJAB, whether they want to "infantile' get VIOLATED or not, don't play that ISLAMIC/Medievalist RAGA. It's a RAGA U don't or ever want to know! Your (girls) by an authorized (Islamic) Physician, will TEAR off your Clitoris so U will never feel a Woman's right to Nature Again.

RE-Reading the QUORAN, bestiality towards WOMEN I didn't note. ISLAM, at least in Western Countries; Get out of here before U feel our WRATH!....PAYBACK-Baby!!! (Sorry bout Dat!)

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix/"THE BUSKER!" (Apres, Picasso's - Blue Period - Painting; The Guitarist.)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/DAVE DELACROIX/ A.K.A. David Michael Oxley, age 70 on Facebook but still drinking like a Fish: "THE BUSKER/Street music-making MAN!"

(Apres PICASSO'S - BLUE PERIOD - painting, The Guitarist.)

"THE BUSKER!"

(dedicato to Sylvie in Freiburg/Germany.)

"The BUSKER!"

...HE'S NO GOOD WITHOUT A WOMAN, just the same without a WIFE! He's no good without a JOB, Saturday night, but he'll take that OPTION, go play Cards all night; it's nothing to him to shoot some Dice! Seroius callouses on his Guitar fingertips, no lipstick on his collar. His alibi.

HE'S NO GOOD without a BANJO making DUCATS on the street? And Hugs & kisses, smiles for everyone he's sure to meet? But HE'S "no good" without a WOMAN or he'd be living on the street! Old joke: Musician without a girlfriend? Homeless!!!

He's NO GOOD without a Woman, a symbol, Love's IDEAL on a plate? He never ever looks before he leaps into your life, into your heart. It takes a special -Machiavellian? - talent to conjure a tune which makes a fair Maidens Soul beat?...

There's an invisible/barely audible orchestration, a background serenity 'bout (Poet) Francois Villon in a den of thieves, "Fat Margot" or "This Brothel where we ply our trade.", or "Where ARE the snows of Yesteryear", "La Boulevard/Rue", a STREET MINDSET where anything, alas still goes?

.... But AS U know, he's no good, no good without a Woman. Playing a repetitive SONG after bloody same SONG, OUT THERE playing every Saturday night...A footfall/donating-public "fussganger"-zone constantly passing him by? -Yet some BELLA always in his mind. "Sans" Banjo, a broken Guitar, and in all weathers, rain or shine, sometimes the bleakest Winter cold - BLUE FINGERS ON STRINGS! -she, somehow is always on his mind...

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Mirror of History!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Mirror of History!"

...NEVER PUT IT IN WRITING, never - "Mein Gott!!!" chisel in stone, never feel too much loss when U R broken/past loves ALWAYS a-haunting: just carve her name - on a tree? - with Pride.

Never think U let her down or destroyed her illusions; maybe she too was reaching for something above U when in fact, within your own Life, past failed loves, you recovered in the round? Yet uncertain of this new love U have found?

And all the time, she too was always looking outside, but for you both, in retrospect, & a carnival of kiss-and-tell, joys & triumphs, rage/despair and all the chaos of LOVE IN THE AIR, yet with dignity, what little U have; carve her name with Pride.

In Love? Guilty IS Guilty, not one of us is innocent. We R all as guilty as SIN. Your reflection in the MIRROR belies everyone else's perception & GOD KNOWS what your Lovers see U AS, or they see IN U? (A Rockstar? The Band: "The Swinging Neanderthals"?)

Never put it in writing, never a hieroglyphic handprint on a prehistoric cave wall. Those pesky Archeologists/modern grave-robbers will try to make sense of your Life's Love! (He was a Hunter-Gatherer? /Probably tried having sex with a RHINO/S-how he lost his Test-Tackles/No Inter-net Porn back then.)

 THEY (Archeologists/Historians) will always overlook that tree in the forest, that personal Eden where pre-history's LOVE bloomed, then a kiss dismissed, a regret but later, a place of loneliness, a place in your heart where-in your Soul's divinity U carved her now forgotten...her name with Pride.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.  

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Catfish on the Bone!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Catfish on the Bone!"

(dedicato: Sarah B. Solo.)

"Catfish on the Bone."

(Singing:) DON'T LET THE COOL OF THE EVENING pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. Keep your eye on the prize, oh babee, U know the reason why? Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by.

Don't U ever go downtown-Memphis without Me. Don't U ever go downtown-Memphis without me. We'll go fishing, Arkansas-Green River: Cook Catfish on the bone! Don't U go down to Memphis, Tennessee, without me.

Don't let the Cool of the Evening pass U by. Don't let the Cool of the Evening pass U by. Keep your eye on the prize, cos' U-er the reason why, don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass US by...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "...I've been around the World!"

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "...I've been around the World."

(Singing:)...BEEN AROUND THE BLOCK; U KNOW just WHAT-WHAT IS! U travelled the 7 Seas; U know a rogue wave's a-coming...when it's in your face? 

Been around the SCENE; thieves & (hippy-talking) gangsters, "de rigour" for Hollywood, wotchagonna-DO, your Life, an answer: IS IT? IS IT?

...Been around the World, I still can't find my Babee, Tropic of Cancer, a Capricorn lack of Mercy? See U on the Greyhound BUS, just where it takes us. Kansas City-Missouri is where we get dumped in a roadside, fast food lullaby.

Been around the BLOCK still going nowhere, veiled kisses & embrace, a hollow SOMEPLACE, an emptiness that resonates like a Cancer-benign, a parallax, a comfort that never lets U totally despair! 

c.2026. Dave Delacroix/Also known on FACEBOOK as "David Michael Oxley" (My Russian K.G.B. SPY name./No good now since I am now employed by the C.I.A/Facebook I.D. still good...I DO NOT wear a Triblby or a Mackintosh raincoat or speak COCKNEY like Actor Michael Caine, but IF I DID I would probably make more Money!)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix (Double Agant!)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DEAD MEN don't darn their socks in the night."

 Our Man in Europe/now residing in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DEAD MEN don't darn their socks in the night!"

...DEAD MEN DON'T darn their socks in the night! Dead men don't darn their own, or anybody else's socks in the night! -They just wallow in a casket of Bloody Mary breakfast-cocktail mix; easy on the tomato juice - too much, makes the Vodka go bad - a stick of celery, quite unnecessary especially if your Tom juice is replaced by a can of V-8! A splash of Lemon; Worcestershire (WHUSTER!) sauce but of course!

DEAD MEN don't masturbate, post-wake jamboree. Your personal "Lancelot" is the first thing to say "Sayonara!" It drops off. Whilst HAIR, supposing U weren't Telly Savalas or Yul Bryner (Actors/quite bald) & finger/toenails grow GANGBUSTERS in search of that heavenly pedicure or Holy manicure, respectfully at a "Salon-Ponce du Lyon" the fountain of lost Youth.

DEAD MEN are bereft of jokes, even professional Stand-Up Comedians! "Have U heard the joke about the dead guy? No? Me neither!"... Nuttin' funny bout death whether U (Russian K.G.B. assisted) fell out of 6-storey high window, slipped on a banana skin, got munched on by a Tiger shark or mashed in the gears of a combined-harvester!

Still... DEAD MEN of course R pretty picky bout their Wardrobe; Pin Stripes or PLAID they STILL show up at St. Peter's gate trying not to look too needy. But like Father Mckenzie (Beatles song/All the Lonely People) Dead Men never get to darn their socks or anyone else's in that eternal night.

...Funny how that works?..

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Twilight Zone."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Twilight Zone."

...OUR OWN PERSONAL TWILIGHT zone! (Reach out & touch me!) ... Sometimes I wonder...I'm Bi-polar and apparently have "ADDO" (attention deficit disorder?) "ADDO!?". Anyways, sometimes I wonder - like we do - R. U. really there? (R.U. THERE!) a 'la a prism in aspic; got to wonder if I'm there/here too? Is there anybody there: No. 9, No.9, No 9!? (Ringo Star).

THOUGHT-cachets trouble the mind when U. R. feeding the cats or just trying to un-wind from being a witness to this World of troubles; that legitimacy of mind in dire need of a good attorney? Altruism or the moral high ground doesn't stand a chance twix Neo-Fascism or Islamic zealots. At some point REASON weakens, U oil & polish your M16 & gotta come out fighting. Don't doubt it! "Peace in our Time" is an illusion.

Sometimes I wonder if WRONG might just be RIGHT, Port-Starboard, Day is Crystal-night, a leering fright, a kiss-hello, a kiss-goodbye in our OWN personal twilight zone: REACH OUT!!! And touch me...Less we forget, all our Soldier boys who came/sacrificed before.

Is there anybody there? LONDON CALLING: No.9, No.9, No.9! The Twilight Zone. (Ringo Star).

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Village Idiot!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Village Idiot!"

...IT AIN'T ALL BAD BEING the "Village Idiot". The Medieval locals douse U with their excrement (Shit!) or pelt U with rotten fruit, arraying U in the village scaffold-stocks, whilst free to roam their kids hound U like it's "open season" on ALL aspects of humanity that confound or fail to conform? There's "V.I." or an OUTSIDER in everyone. Some hide it; some spit in the wind? And "Woe to the Vanquished!", but U can't KILL what the dumb masses fail to understand? "V.I."s DO disturb! 

It's NOT the worst fate to be considered, the town drunk or the Village Idiot? Show some intelligence -U get summoned/invited to the Royal Court...to BE a King's "Fool"! U get to be Liverpool F.C./Manchester United, top of the League! An appointment, a Village Idiots HOLY GRAIL, that gig of gigs where it's koshered to utter absurdities that is rewarded with Cakes & Ale, no fear of reprimand or that pesky AXE, your vocal-flippant treason- nor London-Tower-on-the-Hill execution!

Being an official buffoon is not the worst of fates. It's not ALL bad delivering that light-prism of a Frank Zappa poem/tune (Cosmic Debris?) And yes, people will talk, thus your legend is secure: "Alas poor Yorick! That Clown from Shakespeare's Hamlet. And less we forget the legendary misfit who haunted the bell tower of Paris's Notre Dame! No cakes & ale, sometimes, historically, a persecution song. Whilst up above, the ANGELS (should they actually exist:) DO the "Hokey-Koike" & dance with U in your Village Idiot mist.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix-Esquire: "BABY-DOLL!!!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "BABY-DOLL!"

...BABY! I DIDN'T "diss" U. I was brain-naked, out-clothed/out-classed; no Milano-psycho, no Yakuza-kamikaze! I was ELECTRIC, in a place no-one else can understand. Whether I'd crash in Dubai or Pakistan, my cerebral debris, scattered/littered across the Sahara: A HAFIZ Persian Poet poem? A Love Prophet, quite simply, gone emotional "fiddle-E-Dee!" (It happens!)

BABY! I didn't DISS U. On the road to Damascus! I was a-la BLUES BROTHERS on a Mission from God: S-hard to explain? -A Guitar player/Mariachi looking for that lost chord...& on a 12 string (guitar) U need 3 competent Rockstar ROADIES to assist/several dedicated GROUPIES, optional! Supergroup/famous Bands; Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Black Sabath, cultural predators leave wakes of broken souls? Rolling Stones DO in fact gather moss. It's just never reported!

BABY! I didn't DISS U. I broke my ankle (drunk as usual), the LIMO ran out of gas, an old buddy arrived from out of town, I needed to PAWN my "Gibson Les Paul", my sister got arrested at the Barracuda Club (London). I had to fly over there & bail her out? Stupidity, never short of consequences! The SEVEN WONDERS of who we R" Greed, Envy, Jealousy", just 3 out of 7 to name?

BABEE! (An after thought) I was just slouching down main street, Joplin-Missouri minding my own abstract business. Actually, I was getting my "load on" in some lonesome C/W Bar composing all my excuses 'bout just WHERE WE could/should-a been, but knowing OURSELVES, better we'd reach out for the stars! And now we live with our illusions or get saturated in LOW PLACES, acting out, some private Idaho SOOO faraway from where we belong.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Place in the Sun."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Place in the Sun."

(dedicato: Le Marquis, Jean De'Bats.)

"A Place in the Sun."

...A PLACE IN THE SUN, a dimmed/Raybans-sunglasses/polluted sky or some vellum-bright, the one that burnt (Impressionist Painter) DEGAS's eyes/irises enforcing a 2nd career of miniature bronze sculptures of Ballerinas-immobile yet in their epoch majesty...

A place in the Sun... what issue, what dynamic carves your destiny, like Icarus soaring but with wings of WAX, a predestined "Skyfall" (James Bond movie?) or Sisyphus, another Greek legend/the Greeks/historically OWN the franchise! Sisyphus, silly man, the original (Beatles song:) "Nowhere Man", UP-Hill! forever to labor: Keep your eye on the ball: GRAVITY is All! Rolling stones?

A place in the Sun, a maelstrom-Heart, alas, finding nothing at all except a one-way ticket to Palookaville, possibly to foster an epic monologue, "To Bleed or not to Bleed, that is the question!", an abstract epiphany a-waiting until U R "done & dusted". That tumbleweed moment when the saloon piano dude quits playing & flies-a-buzzing, circling round the ceiling fan...drop dead to the floor!

A place in the Sun. A battle un-won! Faint heart never won, never won fair maiden. There's actually NO NEED to go out and MURDER some-one? (Monty Clift movie?)  Jesus!!! A place in the Sun? No worries, Kids. DO NOT DISPAIR!!! There's always Whisky in the JAR-O!!! And as dark as the inside of a Texas-Steers BUTT on a moonless night, it's no crime to come out fighting...for your own personal-Jesus, the right to stand up & ZORRO your Life into the Light. ...A place, a kind of Loving, for YOU...your place in the Sun.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix (Also in his "undercover" name, David Michael Oxley - old family name on Facebook): "Les Belles de Paris!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/A.K.A. David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "Les Belles du Paris!" (Après poem by Francois Villon/1400s-dude.)

"Les Belles de Paris!"

...DEM GALS LOVE THEIR finery, their semi-concealed tattoos. They manage their lives like a corporation; do their own Taxes too! They Witter like ONLY Parisians do, an un-necessary flamboyance - an "eclair", in point, of all the Gals in the world? They OUT-TALK the lot! And, in my view, yours too (?), they got me stymied!

DEM GALS SURE have a good time? It doesn't matter if I'm there or not, they have that "joi de vie!". They R always planning a frolic or 2. (They hid my Tuxedo!) Where does that leave U or Me, happily confused, a tad outside yet, foolishly feeling blue? (WOTCHAGONNA-DO!?)

(Singing:) "TRA-LA-LA!" Ad-infinitum: The Paris Gals out-talk the lot! Dem Paris Gals out-talk the lot!...What's a poor GARCON to do?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Sargasso Sea."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Sargasso Sea."

...WHEN THE WATER, GONE, DRIED UP, Oil prices plummeted, then, the SWIMMING POOL, the swim-pool owners thought they'd got this GIG-failed? A David Hockney canvas. An"A.I." Aquifer!!! A retro-Impressionist oil painting-smudge for your mind?

  When the Water dried up, the Champagne floated on an Ecco-illusion suggesting that those who owned swimming pools - would be alright.

When the Water dried up the MINISTRY (There's always a Ministry/there's always a MOLE, a Cabinet of Incompetence, a LEAK!) some "Gieves & Hawkes" tailored bureaucrat, 

...some sodomite (Eton Prep. school 0r Cambridge University deluge personality, robotically elected to the Houses of Parliament, a true Patriot: Patriotism? (Doctor Johnson!) The last refuge of a Scoundrel! -at some time, will always piss his pants.

When the WATER, gone, get thirsty. That READ (RED!!!) MARK MARKING by your Tutor in your schoolbook rule? When the snow fails to flood the rivers, to belch the ocean & and delivers your Sargasso Sea.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/8,000 miles east of Paris-France/Dave Delacroix: "Mlle (Mademoiselle)Maupin!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/8,000 miles East o0f Paris-France/Dave Delacroix: "Mlle Maupin!"

...Mlle Maupin? MY HEART IS BROKEN; a "Grisette" or famous courtesan? Mlle-Maupin U swirl through my society but when U leave, "Le Monde Fini!"

Mlle-Maupin? -historically, a famous O'Murphy who caught the eye of a French King, Mlle-Maupin, writer Theo Gautier captured your glory long after Casanova sent U to the palace of Versailles.

Mlle-Maupin, breasts naked, waving the tricolor on histories barricades. A Papillion, a flight above us all. Le Guillotine, never too far away.

 Mlle-Maupin, but now down on the Paris Metro: "Avez vous un-Franc?" But don't say goodbye, Mlle-Maupin: Your song-immortal! Mlle-Maupin? Don't go away.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize-next to Mexico/Dave Delacroix: "Night of the Cougars!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize-next to Mexico/Dave Delacroix: "Night of the Cougars!"

(dedicato: Leonardo Giannone)

"The Night of the Cougars!"

...NIGHT OF THE COUGARS, not a Gigolo in sight, just an incessant PURR, a Boy Scout Code -to "BE PREPARED", AC/DC, to freak out any Girl Guide/Uniformed of course! The "dress-code" of Martyrs has always been, historically debated; Rags, bejeweled. Un-frocked, De-Tux-ified (The Great Gatsby in his swimming pool?), the Knights-Templars! -who barely had time to bury their gold?

NO full moon, no Moon at all. (Bloody Werewolves - howling - abound!) That "Deutsche-Schwartzwald Forest Dating Agency", those mandatory neck "love-bites" schmoozing, a nod to Celtic RUENS (Nordic-Gaelic-Symbolic lingo) to piss off the Apostles who we believe, long since incinerated, crucified - latest news broadcast - outdated had gone, perhaps deservedly, to eternal slumber?

The Night of the Cougars, Black Friday, the 13th. And beware the Ides of March. (Funny old month/half-assed Winter/barely Spring), Nature's carrion call, domestic pets ever alert whence Banshees stir from their caves & Wizards-vibrant conjure incense & curse to mock logic & prey upon superstition, legend, myth and the ignorant darkness of the fragility of lesser minds: The Night of the Cougars! And yes! The dogs R barking!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now residing in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where Termites fear to tread."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where Termites fear to tread."

(dedicato: Claudine.)

"Where Termites fear to tread."

...DID U EVER KNOW NOTHING, ever confess, KNOW NOTHING at all? -No-one to talk to, clutching at straws? Did U EVER have NOWHERE, no place to go; Poets show U the signposts (to nowhere) then conveniently, skip away.

Did U EVER have Ambition then climb that hill? Do U ever question, alone, & U sit there still? And to peek back at the Valley, a comfort warm, was there ever a choice? Yet the schoolyard girls/boys rejoice, echoes-chorus in your mind: Cold Comfort Farm. A dynamic, but not exactly U?

(Refrain:) Where Termites fear to tread. Where drunken Angels at the tavern sing OF our mortal whiles & who's to say what rights or wrongs, Love Rape, brutality, sired, delivered our own singular song?

Did U ever know Nothing, nothing at all? No-one to talk to, clutching at straws? Did U ever have nowhere, no place to go; Poets (Dem BANDIDOES!) will always skip away: Or that Song of Songs, a divine embrace, and, sometimes, a place where we belong.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.