Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/a.k.a. David Michael Oxley -on Facebook: "SHE got BLING!"
(dedicato: Carol Aniello.)
"She got Bling!"
(Song:) SHE GOT BLING! Everybody says so? She got Bling. I DO believe so....SOooo happy U R mine, your Bling in my mind. She's got Bling; the World is her Oyster.
She got Bling, the people adore her. She got Bling; all thru the night? She got Bling. The boys scramble for her attentions! So happy in Time. So happy she's mine...
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/ a.k.a. David Michael Oxley -on Facebook: "The Silence of the Lambs!"
"OH-SIRIUS!" (Internet public Q & A. lifestyle APP). Maybe there's One for broken hearts? "OH-SIRIUS! Where do lonely hearts inter-network-sad-saps like me go? -But GOD-FORBIDS, whoever THAT CLOWN IS; whotchagoona-DO if U want to tear off your HIJAB? (98 Lashes!!!?) or condemn Sharia-Insane-Law?
"OH Sirius! can U direct me; who should I contact/synthetic BIRD-CALLS or indirectly connect with some Pakistani HACKER (why R they - it seems - ALL Islamic/Pakistanis) who'll also seduce me for my bank account number, strip me clean/later to locally GROOM my - sex slave - teenage daughter? What KERNAL of EVIL groomed THEM in the first place? (Islam? Or just ground dirt greed?)
"OH! SIRIUS!" Do my Internet questions/innocent requests expose me/my Kids to ISLAM-TERROR, the cultural decline of (Even Cricket!!!) the destruction of cultural-International Trust; historically, when any which way, philosophically, was just "life's WICKETS" just WAS!? Or this "OWWZAT era of Western complacency?
"OH-SIRIUS, Internet/Computer/A.I. Maybe OUT THERE an APP for Broken Hearts; some careless Gals, out there on a lonely Saturday night on a British street. Un-afraid, in anticipation of the Spring of Life that THEY should expect to greet? 2026-OPEN SEASON on a mini-skirt blonde or brunette who night ventures into a Pakistani-Islamist night! (Muslim-Open Season on our Lady Fashionistas!)
...I HAVE a few IRANIANS, well-educated buddies, both, in their college years, penalized for not adhering to strict Muslim Laws who found a gig in Western Europe finally. But I will never understand WHY they don't raise their voices against the MEDAEVILISM in their own Country where GIRLS R deprived Education/civil emancipation? Why does that not matter? To THEM!!!
ENGLAND, under the threat of NAZIS/TYRANNY, we built a SPITFIRE/fought back!!! Islam, now invasive in Europe as now abandoned the MIDDLE EAST SEWER they made? Now we have ISLAM, 250,000 U.K. girls/WOMEN assaulted. (I guess the Pakistanis got bored with Cricket?). My Muslim friends. Reticent. (???). SHAME!!! It's NO LONGER a game of polite Cricket. Like letting HITLER rule the World. Your Silence is your SHAME: -The Silence of the Lambs!
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "VOODOO!"
...DO U "DO-DA-DOOBIE" in the morning? Do U "do-da-doobie" at night? OR...do U do-dah Bossa Nova, under the moon? Or, at midday; make the Sun go crazy!
Do U Mambo, Jumambi, Ju-Ju-karma? Do U LIMBO under the sky? Do U intestate-kamikaze, that inner spasm, just never wondering why.
Do U cleanse your Soul, a cerebral Tsunami, to feel that U R sometimes worthy, sometimes whole? Is it necessary to go shopping to get out of this groove;
1) Bambu/cigarette papers.
2) Case of Milk.
3) Tobacco.
4) VINO!
5) Bug Spray.
6) Chutney, to garnish Samosas.
...And Uncle Tom Cobbly & all!
Do U DO-BE-DOOBIE in the morning, at your laptop or on the street? A Jumambi. A VOODOO! That worm in the bud/the turning of your screw. Would anyone understand except, maybe, some stranger U have yet to meet. That yeast in the air to ferment/focus on all, alas, we still feel is missing.
OK!!! Back to shopping:
1) A Pink inflatable Giraffe! (Life size)
2) A 45-foot Yacht!
3) Solar powered LEAR JET.
4) Unlimited supply of Madras Curry powder!
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Ode on Indolence." (Après poem by John Keats.)
...A-MAH BIN WORKING ON MAH tropical (Belize) morning chorus-bird calls: "Coo-whoosits/CAW-CAW/Swoop=SWOP, Crack-a-fricking too!!!"; also catching up on my foot-dangling & trimming my MULLET (hairstyle). This doesn't leave me a lot of time for "indolence".
...I've been busy, managing/delegating in monosyllables to Rosa, Villa-housekeeping, Gerry, swimming pool maintenance & new kid on Campus, Kendrick, our Chateaux-Pelican Guest Villa compound landscaping dude which does not leave me a lot of time for "indolence".
I'm even getting complaints for my absenteeism @ my Corozal-Belize local bar, the "Natural Mystic"! ..."Where's U bin? How de doody?" etc. fully knowing they're blasting out (song) Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic"/one of my faves. And WOTCHAGONNA-DO, flip-flops instead of (Irish?) Brogues. Out here in the tropics, not a lot of time for "indolence".
Predictably, folks like me get a lot of Hate-Mail. They don't see what WE see, back-to-back bicyclists on a sandy street/we call it GRIDLOCK or standing at a Belize bus stop, sharing with a BZ Matriarch loaded down with groceries/we call that OVER CROWDING & if there's tumbleweeds blowing around the local mini market aisles, ya KNOW ya getting chiseled; alas, "indolence doesn't stand a chance!
I've been -so-so working on my tropical bird calls, catching up on my foot-dangling & trimming my Mullet, and righteously, I'm sure you'll agree. Indolence is a MOOD-THINGY that needs to get a hold of me! But maybe not yet. I'll get back to U!
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "...At the Gringo Bar!"
(dedicato: Rene Jr/Rene Snr @ the Natural Mystic Pub, Corozal-Belize.)
"...At the Gringo Bar!"
...AT THE GRINGO BAR WE only talk to the Bartender, we never confess (Why should we?) or to our Priests; we only spill the Beans to fellow drunks, hitchhikers, highway encounters, never-likely to confide in Lovers-close. (E-Mail is SO passe?) "I left my heart in San Diego; holler back?"
We only talk "facia-a-facia" to Strangers, hoping it will "OUT-WASH/RINSE" our Conscience/GUILT (?), that "sang-froid", (OKLAHOMA WINTER), cold, the rot that resides in our Souls; Gold, Mir & Frankincense; a Curry where all myths, religion, redundant theology BOOGALOOS in your mind? -Keep those drinks a-coming!!!
We only converse, eloquent, raw-thirst, as our HUNGER becomes a DUST BOWL, ashes to ashes/funk to funky, nothing left, that ECCO-Holocaust, whence Kids once wallpapered their sad-Shack bedrooms with Newspapers, made dresses out of patterned flour sack cloth, devout in their FAMINE, no Banjo on Campus/no Charlie Chaplin in sight?
As with the Gringo Bar. No grapes, no wrath! Just a hopeless sojourn. A lame Crusade, a transmigration, Knights-Templars, Black Fridy (13th). A BUDWEISER NEON flickers. A Natural Mystic that labyrinthine's U into your own personal oubliette! At the Gringo Bar; a sad final retreat, for so many, a forgetting: (HAPPY-HAPPY!!!).
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Romeo on Campus!"
(It's a Song/Music-thing.)
....NO REASON TO get lonely, no reason to just get PHONEY! It ain't no crime...to fall in love.
No reason, no vivid adventure; wotchagonna-DO: (fill in the .......blanks!)
...NO SENSE, no sensibility, no way of looking, U sometimes SEE the world upside down?
No reason TO get lonely. Ask me? -The World's way too phony. But like your average SAD-SAP (Just shoot me!) I'll fall in love at the drop of a hat!?
No reason to get lonely. No reason to BE PHONEY! It ain't no crime to fall in love.
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Biscuits on a plate! /THE RIDDLER!"
...YOURS, THE MEMORY OF POP SONGS of cerebral-Biscuits, some trend-flavor of the (your) Times, that perfect Natures periodical epiphany, a flash of genius or sincere, (nobody forgets their youth time music golden oldies!) genuine inner genuflection which makes our passage through Time seem ultra real a 'la your first passion, a teen-age Crush so PROFOUND; a "Riddler", a "Ponce de Lyon" searching for that Fountain of Youth? (But in Florida? Why not Chicago or the outskirts of Torino-Italy!?)
There's a kick-in-the-ASS, that Cleopatra's ASP (Whoo!) who'll sting: Soul-bound! Not with-standing/Guillotine-threats, the howls of the Mob/the madding-crowd who chip away/altruism gone South which rattles your "inner-GIZMO" of your own personal (Idaho?) voyage to Treasure Island? "LAND AHOY!!!" (If Life was only that simple?) JIM HAWKINS: "Smart as Paint!"
BUT YOURS IS the Memory, your ghosts/regrets, a labyrinth of coils, the stuff of your inner eternity, that DRUM Tattoo, un-ceasing, marching U into that 11th hour, and promises-sworn, betrayed or forgotten, a Maverick in your Style? No magic carpet but maybe an Axminster, a comfortable rug? SEX!? Get it whilst U can. It's never too early, but sometimes ...it's too late!
But THERE'S the "Biscuit", a teeth-marked crumble/biscuit; perhaps a pre-destined suicide note never sent, some Apocrypha Bible book never published, the book of Judas, Mary Magdalene, almost forgotten yet recorded in Sanskrit, Sumerian, or Biro-penned on the back of some old Hippies Vinyl-L.P. to at last settle, perhaps on YOU or another's historical memory... That pesky RIDDLER, the mouse in the wainscotting, that turning of the screw. A dark cloud appears. A wedding ceremony. Vows & all: Whence U pronounce, - Oh what the hell? "I DO!"
c.2026. Dave Delacroix.
