Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "PISTOL PACKING MOMMA!"

 OUr Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Pistol Packing Momma!"

...I WASN'T SURE (REAL-WHISKY SURE!) ...how could I be? But dat Pistol bitch with the Colt.45, aimed right at ME? And, (pause) U know I had my ashtray-doubts like an un-paid Bar-tab, my half-hearted SOUL gave out some half-assed -I'm gonna faint-SHOUTS, I'm fainting, better than wailing "I'm a PATRIOT!" -the last refuge of a Scoundrel (Doctor Samuel Johnson.).

BURRT...That Pistol Packing MAMMA stole my HEART twix BRUNCH & SUPPER, Croutons in Salad were involved/French dressing/Romantically? A recipe for gastronomic disaster perhaps; it's un=proven but many a heart has been destroyed "avec" "LE BUFFET!" French Film dudes, Goddard, Chabrol, Truffaut actually make MOVIES bout this stuff!!! (They R mostly in B/W.)

And, universally agreed only FAILS (Freudian slip) only FOOLS fall in love but when U R looking down the MUZZLE (She put the Colt.45 in her left TIT pocket) whipped out an UZI U bet-cha-heart strings pounding; U'd better know what's-WHAT? I wasn't too sure (How could I be?) Surely this RACHEL wasn't gonna slay a DAVID? My appointment with GOLLIATH...future boogaloo.

There ain't "nuttin" sweeter than wine or the sadness U must absorb when your baby cries? There ain't no ALAMO, no last chance Casino or Saloon where we bury our Loves or hole our regrets, compact, in the saddlebags, horse-riding, the DEVIL won't find me, from Babylon to Samara! (HAFIZ!!!) It ALL comes back to haunt U or comes out in the Wash?

There ain't no ZEPHYR to cleanse your miscalculations, those embryonic, altruistic prods: QUO VADIS, God to Saint Whoosits: "Which WAY!?" -responding, "Manh, I got NO G.P.S.! " (No wonder he got crucified, upside down?) & all the LOVES, somehow, the Devil in Dixie or the songs U left behind? The Blues in everyone's ticket pocket, no Gold can ever compensate.

There ain't "nuttin" sweeter than a Sampan cruise all the way - in a matchbox - from faraway CATHAY (China). There's "nuttin" like a resurrection, a regret in your mind; that maelstrom, that whirlpool which leaves your Soul, cleansed/behind. And as for that PISTOL PACKING MOMMA? I guess she got fagged out, moved on to better times. People just, thank God...just do. (I'd loaded her "firepower" with blanks. S'why, whilst -ahah! "Sweating bullets" I still look good in Facebook "Selfies!"...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Trail of Tears."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Trail of Tears."

...BORN TO BE WILD, BORN TO RUN, born under a bad Sign, Born to BOOGIE, born to be Bad? That switchblade-cross mountain tracks, a MURDER on the lee that no-one discovers, intrinsic, a Pathologist's mystery?

 -AHA!!! That MINX who got away with it, my corpse (Heart!) still in a Montana kitchen Freezer? (In the Montana, Bitterroot Valley, she could 'a parked me under fire logs; critters & Moose, a backwoods weekend lunch.). Elementary! (Farewell cruel - Montana! - World; Love, obviously waits for Me in Monte-Carlo?) But THIS is not about US!

Born to be BOLD, yet at the first gallop, a Knights Lancelot-charge! -cut down & away: "HUZZAH! Huzzah! Huzzah!" -the charge of the Light Brigade; his LOBSTERED-armored carcass then ferried to a quieter place. (Without DREAMS we fail to EXIST!!!)

...Born to BE the JOUST-KING, the Maestro, the Prince, that wizard on LEAD GUITAR, for some, or how to weave that Tapestry on Missoula's Public Radio: The CATFISH JOHN MUSIC SHOW, to butterfly all we R? Yup! Born to be wild. Born under a bad Sign. That withered Soul, that WE: We refugees from Fate. Our ghost mists the Bitterroot Valley like the Nez-Pez Indians, on their trail of tears... who also travelled in Winter's snow this way so long ago.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Some of these days/Au munchen tagen!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Some of these days/Au munchen tagen."

(dedicato: Carol Marie Aniello.)

"Some of these days."

SOME OF THESE DAYS when the Sun goes down, some of these days -when you're feeling blue; some of these days -they come right up to U? Some of these days -belong to U.

Some of these days -try and catch a falling star? Some of these days -no need to question who we are? Some of these days -your magic comes right up to U; some of these days -belong to U.

...Some of these days U look so scared!? - look into my eyes: I'll take U anywhere!...

Some of these -when the Sun goes down, some of these days when we-re feeling blue? Some of these days, your magic fills the room? Some of these days -belong to Me & You; Some of these days -belong to U.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "All the Kings Horses..."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "All the Kings Horses..."

...TO TRAVEL IN YOUR MIND, no more worthy than the search for the Alchemist Stone, worth more than logistics, Roman turnstiles, or Industrial Turnpikes to bar imagination's progress? A'la Ponce de Lyon in search of El Dorado, or that illusive Fountain of Youth. (Transmute base metal into Gold!?)

To travel in your Mind, to advance, perhaps to FIND an honest mind, as in (Poet John Donne:) "No man is an Island!" Trouble IS! The Maldives, their land sinking, sea levels rising, courtesy of more powerful Nations POLLUTANT behavior, the Seychelles-tick-tock!) - consult PIRATES ANNONYMOUS.COM - 2026, Guilt or geographic obscurity? -There is alas, these days, nowhere to run & nowhere to hide, less U got a USA Green Card? (Good luck on that one!)

To travel in your mind, that SLUICE of Ideas...down a COAL SHUTE, black on black. It ROARS, un-leashed like the Lion's ROAR (More-so!) as in a Los Angeles multistory parking lot! An Urban echo U R unlikely to forget. Escape artists will always try to run U down: "Gimmie 5, I'll get U 10?"

To travel in your mind, that horizon beyond the sea WHENCE CONQUISTADORS, our ancestors, people like U & Me? -be-laid gentle brown skin folks for GOLD for our superficial needs. And all the Kings horses & all the Kings men...will never put this GIG, your gig... back together again.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BARBIE-Q!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BARBIE-Q!" (Après SUZI-Q, 1960s song by Creedence Clearwater Revival.)

(Dedicato: Ken & Tammy)

"BARBI-Q!"

...HEY BARBIE-Q! U lookin' so fine. Hey Barbie-Q, sun tanned or medium-rare? Oh Barbie-Q, nudie-NU? Nudie blue? (I'm glad you're mine!)

Hey Barbie-Q! We gotta jive with Wine. Hey Barbie-Q? -flip flops/bell bottoms! Fashionista-style! Hey Barbie-Q, flip that sausage in your mind.

Hey Barbie-Q! A sizzle on the Grill. Hey Barbie-Q; a thrill is what U call it! (Hoop-la, beach-baby-bingo, hoop-la! Hoop-la!) Let the good times roll. Hey Barbie-Q - Signs & Wonders! - so glad you-re mine!

UNDERLAY!-UNDERLAY!-ARIBA!-ARIBA!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Blog supporters - quite FREE - can log on to this Blog "as FOLLOWERS" for immediate updates/My FACEBOOK page - family name - is David Michael OXLEY where U can observe my other interests/if I DIED & various "WOT LARKS!!!. Cheers.

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

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/This my PICASSO BLUE PERIOD: "Linguini!"

...WE GOT LENTILS, MUNG, DALH, Basmati rice & all the spices that cook so nice, but as for my new LADY, we're always chowing down on LINGUINI (tomato sauce/parmesan) Linguini.

...She's not Latino, nor from a Viking Fjord, she's BLONDE (Non-Italiano!) from some mystic foreign shore. She's house-proud, definitely FERTILE, wears lingerie at night whilst singing operatic arias...

...but for LUNCH...it's always Linguini (avec Chianti vino)

She's the ONLY WOMAN I ever loved but I don't know what to do? -BABEE can U change your CULINARY shoes; please God, no more Linguini!!!

Hey Guys! Has this ever happened to YOU?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: REX MOSER/Denver's Guitar-finest/A Lyric for YOUR interpretation BRO!)

...YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO LEAVE ME, got no peace of mind. I was gonna, get around to it in my own time? U didn't have to betray me in my 11th hour. I was busy being "all fricked-up"; my darkest hour.

U didn't have to maroon me, lord knows how fragile we R, and now, aged, dementia we cannot hide the Sins we have sown? U didn't have to dump me, my heart's desire. I wasn't worthy of U, just a love affair on the wire.

U didn't have to leave me for some - ever-ready - Prick on call? Disapointments all-round for...the Wichita Linesman. I still hear U through the wire.

I still hear U through the wire!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.