Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "The Day of our Night."

 

Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "The Day of our Night." 

THE DAY OF OUR NIGHT that comes all too soon. No Guinivere, no Eloise, and no Brigadoon to bagpipe you're passing nor ferry cross U O-er the river Styx? And no coins on your eyes, no whisky on your lips.

 That day of your night no Nightingale sings. Divested of your glory your Hummingbird wings that solvent bestowed, yet a swallow's flight, now a murder of crows, night eternal. (DANG!!!)

The day of our night, the kernel of our mortal plight. The jagged THROAT CANCER that steals all my might. Wishful thinking at the 11th hour, a last great aspire? No KISSES for sure!

 Yet no rage nor distemper for that day of my night. Multitudes, some in battle, some in PEACE now all un-raveled in resistance distemper? 

 A dismember. Yet an echo. Acclaimed? Or a joke! All worries like DEBTS - mine? -  U can put EM in the Post. Guitars & souvenirs of all MY Yesterday's reign. A sound & the fury - Upstairs/Downstairs - we might meet again. (Ya never know?)

The day of our night. Tomorrow>day after? Maybe tomorrow looks like rain? (I hate to be pessimistic...) Sunday BBQ coming up. Guess I'll wear me olde Tuxedo!

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "Yankee Gal!"

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "Yankee Gal."

"YANKEE GAL!"

That Yankee Gal, probably from PHILLY or New York City, mornings, she hits the ground running, runs rings round around Me. Always second guesses my epiphanies, gotta LAW-SUIT for my ideas, & dresses to the "nine-o-pins" knows what to order when we dine.

That Yankee Gal got a chauffeur always on hand. In London, Paris or Rome, a Matre'd at hand to tell me which knife or fork, Claret or Burgundy to drink? Sometimes I think my Yankee Gal tells me what to think.

My Yankee Gal as bright as paint decorates my Soul. One day I know she'll move on OUT and be someone else's Scout! It's no tragedy, it's no despair. My Yankee-brilliant Gal. I'm glad that U were there.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Calvary on your Crucifix." ...in 3 parts, naturally.

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Calvary on your Crucifix."...in 3 parts, naturally.

(dedicato: For Albdem Forte! on the occasion of the birth of his BELIZIAN SON "AZEILLE"!

'The Calvary in your Crucifix" (1 to 3)

PART 1) 

"BLOODY MARY!"

SOMEBODY GOT NOBODY on a Saturday night including "O sole Mio." An eclipse of the moon? Somebody out there u know too well, out there living in hell. 

Somebody got Nobody, no Christmas (Tiny Tim?) -alone with their isolation, a soliloquy of despair, guilty of nuttin just not knowing HOW TO BE THERE? Poverty's 1,000-yard stare!

Somebody got Nobody, no Christmas tree. Why NOT GO VISIT, a cigar or box of candy, remind them they R finally free? Leastways BE a REFUGEE! U can Vote with ya feet?

MUDLARKS on the riverbanks of the TIBER, THAMES or SEINE. It doesn't cost much KINDNESS-Cheri to say "Bonjour!" again: Somebody gets LONELY on a Saturday-Blue? Better hope it don't come, "ALLORE!", "mon Dieu!" to U?

-WORCESTER-Sauce, VODKA of course. Tomato-juice, lemon juice, black pepper, oregano, cilantro, an hour later your hangover will feel much better or maybe much worse. "Com-se-com-ca!/Ce sera-sera!/whatever. Drink up and Be SOMEBODY!"

Sing a Song of Sixpence. A pocket full of Rye. 4 X 20 Blackbirds baked in a Pie! Yet SOME KID, girl OR boy GOT NOBODY on a Saturday night. Where's our god dammed moon? Where's our god dammed plight? No kisses on Calvary on Friday or a Saturday night.

YUP! It's a little bit lonesome. Boys shave or just look groovy. BELAS, bitchin leather-MINI or floral silk skirt "en-suite"? We launch our passion INTO the unpredictable human Seven Seas? To love or die, a BLOODY MARY s-what we might drink. A Calvary moment for YOU & for me. 

Somebody got Ya Christmas. No XMAS night Gift-bag spangled!!! No "LONELY HEARTS" no souvenir to wipe. No cuddle in your soul. SOMEBODY got NODBODY. Nobody got a song. I wish that I was with U too. We might just get along.

c.2025. dave delacroix.

PART 2:  "The LIGHT of the MOON!" (DICKENS: FAGIN & Bill Sykes Song.)

"SHUT UP KIDS: Don't ask too many questions bout where we begin? & or WHERE DO WE START in a pregnant fart, a song of hope & glory! Drink ya GIN! (Mammy-depart!)

Shut-up kids, GIMMIE A'BREAK, I can't find my Whisky, where'd MOTHER hide it? I love her-I hate her, the only ONE I'd stop a Bullet for; but!!! There R times!!!? (Too late now.) Mommy Dearest?

Shut UP U KIDS & drink ya GIN. Breakfast ain't till tomorrow. Porridge of course. Then get out here. Go Shoplifting/Credit Card FRAUDING and bring me some ICON, some Silverware to reflect the light of the moon or a day in the Sun.

SHUT_UP KIDS! Better gimmie some of dat Gin! Just don't tell ya "MA!" -After working all day, laundering neighbors' clothes, maybe Whisky in the JARO? And in the light of the moon where YOU & ME maybe come too soon, an epiphany. Yet ya Mamma-gone. She ain't here! 

Did U brush your teeth, did U Shower today, were u more honest than yesterday? Did u run-rampant in stolen clothes? Do U a Ballerina, do U become Lawyer or a Copper! What's to become of us ALL under the light of the moon...?

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

PART 3:  "GOIN' SOUTH!"

Goin' South, going South...with sweet Louise. Goin' South! -I'm her Squeeze. And no way of knowing with sweet Louise. Goin' South. A Summers breeze.

Goin' South? Written in the stars. Goin' South. S-who we R. Always "G.S>" S-ats who we R.

Goin' South, bacon & eggs. A side of buttered toast, ketchup U-bet! ...MARTINIS at "happy hour", an Olive for Louise! Her hairstyle-delightful in the fair sunlight. (WotchagonnaDO?)

Goin' South, going nowhere; a compass all-awry. Ask me in a couple of whiskies? I'll tell U where I'm bound. Goin' South. Goin' South? S-where I need to BE? Goin' South, Louise & Me. Our needing to be free.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

(HIDDEN TRAX:) PART 4: "The Walls of Jericho."

(dedicato: boys & gals presently engaged in the RUSSO-UKRAINE war.)

..."The Walls of Jericho."

Where does your CASUALTY go? That INNER-U. Do U leave an arm or a leg over barbed wire in WW1 rotten trenches?

 Thank GOD we weren't there. Who'd wanna go? ROW on ROW. Corpses & Corpses...killed in the mud for WHA!!!?

Where does your casualty lie? in some Seigfried Sassoon Poem, a ragged-survivors heart, some kick-ass wonder, never got passed START, a minuet, a prance, a lace dressed maiden who beckoned U into the dark, albeit a butcher's broil/cannon-fodder stark?

When did your Casualty die? Did U kill the thing U loved or horrified by what U saw? Did U want to hide your face when ordered to shoot by the walls of Jericho a fellow COWARD in the face?

And when U come home? Eye-contact? Forgeddabout it! And never answer the ringing of the telephone!

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "The SIREN in the DARK."

I Our Man in Europe, now Belize: "The SIREN in the DARK." (1 to 3)

1)... "NO MORE A'ROVING!"

...Don't need a tailored SUIT anymore (living in da tropics) from "Gieves & Hawkes" on Saville Row nor a "Turnbull & Asser" bowtie, cravat or silk shirt, wardrobe-debonaire. 

Don't need a night at the SAVOY (London Hotel) or to wine & dine at the CAFE ROYALE. And absolutely I do NOT need an L.A. LIMO, don't need that bore. As for Hollywood & Vine? (I'd rather go to Church!?)

Don't need Deauville, Monte-Carlo nor Rome. Don't need "adventure" a SAFARI, climb the Himalayas or paddle UP the ORINOCO for that Eldorado no-one ever finds? 

Ponce de Lyon searching for the "Fountain of Youth"?  (St. Augustine-F.L.A.) It's in your back pocket as U travel along. Nobody told him. "Shmuck!?"

...And now, guess I don't need that Italian COUNTESS though she paid all my bills. Nor backstabbing friends who'll meet their own just ends.

 SO! NO MORE WE'LL GO A'ROVING, a song we get to sing. All songs, like all our Yesterdays resound in a hollow ring. (THE BELLS! THE BELLS!) Going DEAF/bored yet!?

...U'll BAGPIPE (I'll Bagpipe too!) or WHISTLE, our last defense. Whisky & laughter? I recommend. Put on ya Tartan. Ya Highland fling. Rave a CEILIDH. We'll dance & sing.

...Don't need your kisses, don't need your Hollywood FAME. Don't need that sickly sweetness all over again. And as for Life's folly, fools-thieves & clowns. Don't need to meet EM all over again. (Unless they owe me money?)

There's always that. The TRAP! "Hmm! We R fools after all." My Credit rating is positively Agatha Christie!

Meantime I don't WANNA remember. Too many regrets which haunt my sleep. U try to forget a kiss on a pillow, a memento- souvenir. The stuff over Hellenic Wars have been fought. U fill in the blanks of OUR OWN crisis. No more a 'roving. We sing!!! My Bela-My sweet. 

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

2)... "THE PHONEY!"

...In ASPIC, an ECLIPSE IN DECEMBER, like an "Up-Side-Downsize Cake". the one your Mommy made U many years ago. Ya-kind'a viewed it with suspicion but ate it any way; it looked like a rusted COLLISEUM where no bloodshed took place... like too many aspirins in the morning or a triple Cognac late at night; a "film Noir" in your Song. That dead Lady in the Lake. (Hunger prevailed!) Wonder how she met her fate?

In ASPIC, a SOLAR ECLIPSE in December, the MOON refused to shine. That KISS U expected... but always lets U down. Those Sunrise-Sunsets, nature's Carnivals swirl in the mirror of your eye. There IS no U.V. protection twix truth & when U LIE.

In aspic AN ELCLIPSE in December, the Winter of your discontent, , a PANDA MOON, a Yin & Whoosits staring U in the face; do U put on a disguise, run for cover, borrow money from ME to get out of town? It's ALWAYS tough when U don't conjure tomorrow's shopping list. But Tomorrow is Tomorrow's game!

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

3)... (Happy Song:) "The HIGHWAY on the WIRE."

......WE'RE ALWAYS DOOMED, we're always DOOMED in the afternoon, U got my Spoon? Well, did  get yours too? No worries. We're always doomed. (Sonorous Orchestration)

And that PRETTY LADY in the printed-flirting dress, can I get an "introduction"? "Countess-Whoosits?" It's... a miracle PASSION survives. "Who if I cried out!?" (Rainer-Maria Rilke/German scribbler) DOTS & COMMAS prevail.

We're always DRESSED-TO-THE-NINES & yet we swoon too soon. We're always SEMI-DOOMED when LOVE bursts our balloon?

1960s. Dusty rooms. Fumbles under dresses. "U WILL be gentle?", "Las Vegas-Weekend?", "No Honey." she says, " I was thinking about TEXAS, South-Fork Ranch, Your $$$s & a sweet-heart retirement! My PUSSY well spent!"

...Maybe a Caracalla, a Gitano dance might alleviate your Soul or some Mississippi Blues to split your spleen yet find just WHAT!?...I AIN'T NO FOOLIN, 'Bin WITCHATA-LINESMAN". The highway on the Wire. Out there in Palookaville! Some SIREN in the dark.

(Full CHORUS:)  "Tra-la-la."

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our BLOKE n Europe/now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "KIMONO!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/floating on a Sampan outta Hong Kong wearing cheap-ass mascara: "KIMONO!"

(dedicato: Outta RESPECT for the Cool Kids in Singapore, Hong Kong & China- hugs & blessings!)

"KIMONO!"

KIMONO! ~...Have U ever been lonely, have U ever been blue? Have U ever been lonesome, it's up to U. Do U ever go back to the Rice-family-pack. Polish your shoes? And out of the city, goodbye to Shanghai, goodbye to what U knew.

 And IN the CITY what U gonna do? And what good is your Kimono; why not just give it away, sometimes we sing these songs every other day?

Have U ever been lonesome. Some Gal on the street. A Tokyo landscape. Some kid on the street. The KIMONO U pawned long ago. The Song in your heart. The song in your Soul sings for ever more. (Don't lose faith!!!)

 It's tough being lonesome. The Devils U meet. But like a refugee U still got feet? There's some Kid on the corner, maybe COOL; don't cost nothing to say "Hello!"? (Flip a Dime?)

(Singing:) KIMONO! KIMONO! Come back to Me! Where is our destiny? Please set us free. Kimono-Kimona, I sing our song. And with our BITS & BOBS we might just get along.

 Kimono=Kimona, I remember so well when I thought the World was a drinking well. But now?...

Kimono-Kimona. Gotta a smile on my face. Nobody really knows US. WE really got no face. People pass us by. Like U I'm a face in the crowd. Kimono-Kimona. I just say (in Mandarin:) "MEE-HOW!". A face in the crowd.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "The Day of the Misfits!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize: "The DAY of the MISFITS!"

...SO WE DECIEDED to ROB a BANK. S-where they KEEP DA MONEY. Seemed like a good idea at the time. We'd already tried BLACKMAIL, but the Internet went South & we couldn't remember anyone's E-mail/address. Names? Who can remember names? The last Geisha U kissed. "WON TON SUE?" And "STICK EM UP!" on N.Y.C. 5th Avenue? Fashionista-Bitches just slapped us in the FACE!  (I was at my wits end?)  But BACK to the big-Kohona, the BANK JOB... Mandatory of course we should (Humphry Bogart/Casablanca) wear belted gabardines, serious Fedoras in the middle of July, every second guy in Ray bans, a third with a painted-on scar, again with mandatory SNEER & no vocabulary. Identical WATER PISTOLS of course, only ONE that if triggered produced the British flag, we were all set to go, Curly, Larry & Moe; back up were the MARX BROTHERS, recent inductees to our gang, Jewish & broke & OUR GANG, a bunch of neighborhood penniless ghetto KIDS to drive us away in the "get-a-way" Van. I believe "Stymie" was the designated driver? FILM NOIR never had a better smile? After a breakfast of bacon & eggs, 2 or 3 shot of Nightrain (fortified red wine gut) I gathered the TROOPS and was ready to BOOGALOO! We all hit the "D-Train outta Coney Island, separated in different train cars -for camouflage. Bernie Madoff's Lipstick high-rise on Manhattan's whoosits street. THIS GUY was LOADED! We'd "Stick him up!!!" I DID forget my Homburg hat. Yet what could go wrong?...

c.2025. dave delacroix.

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

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

...I NEVER CRIED for my Pizza, no Pizza ever cried for Me? I sailed to Cathay, but Cathay never sailed to me. I never wailed seeing the edge of the world, the state of California was enough. And I never sang of Allah, Budda, or Jesus but I guess those guys sang for me.

I rarely had an original Thought, lord knows we plagiarize as we breathe. Shakespeare or the Bible, recently outsold by "The Da Vinci Code" (?) Quotations/contradictions, will they ever cease? And PIZZAS come & Pizzas go. Who makes Em better, who made them FIRST! The Chinese or Italians? Yet another GULLIVER'S TRAVELS reason to go to war.

It's a long way to Tipperary but MY heart's right there.

c.2025. Dave Delacroix.