Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Exile on Main Street."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Exile on Main Street,"

...NUTTIN' DOIN' DOWN HERE... on the Main Street of YOUR MIND; no regrets - Edif Piaff's, La vie a Rose! -  A "pastiche"; sadly/morbidly dwelling on an "olde Lange syne", finding ourselves hanging out with the furballs, CATS! -by the swim-pool on the patio... dwelling on all the Heavens & Hells, we each leave behind? 

Throw in - the scene - an ice/fog machine/Devils in the Fog, thus enshrouded INTO THE MYSTIC, a Van Morrison song! Sound CARRIES in the fog and sometimes, your Minds whispers can be overheard! Equally, underwater, a sound, a panic? A razor tooth SHARK will circle! The ocean's main street is where they do their shopping!

...NUTTIN' DOIN' ...down on the Main Street of your Mind. Times, U remember, Times, U cannot recall. Some, U cherish. Some, U try to forget. A Quantum-Physic: U see what U see. But "Under the Volcano" (L.S.Lowry) there's a Yellowstone (mega-seismic-activity) ACTIVE, yet to spout. No-No! No need for Confession. Vocal flatulence don't count>

Nuttin' doin' down on Main Street. Bald, empty, deserted. S-where everyone's dreams come-a Courting!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA CATS "ME-OWW!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA CATS "ME-OWW!"

...da CAT's "Me-OWW!" treads upon your Laptop (keys?), Feline Code, the Cat's PAW meaning nothing at all? Perhaps a PURR in da Nite, a squeal, a fright, your ruffled fur, yearning for comfort, a saucer of Cream. Outside in the rain, a thing U don't want or need.

...LIPSTICK on your collar...told a tale ON U & wotcha-gonna-DO? The Night has 1,000 eyes yet U persist & PURR just like a fool? Cats, PUSSY encroaches into the ghost of Life's machine, it oils the wheels of suspicion, jealousy, a Cat's PAW on PAW, an IAGO to destroy your faith in Desdemona's dream? 

Poor OTHELLO, marooned in - Iago's - prompt mistrust. The island of MALTA estranged in the Sea. So many DARES & DISPLAYS "a Tree grows in Brooklyn" before they chopped it down!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Hollow Soul."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Hollow Soul."

(dedicato: Greg Hunter)

"The Hollow Soul."

...IN MY TIME I HAVE BEEN DIRECTED TO DWELL in the bowels of ancient history, Roman, Magna-Greco & as a child, played upon Anglo-Saxon battlefields. U would THINK, culturally, some of this "gleaning" might have rubbed off? -Yet, diluted by contemporary "education"; teachers, college PROFS they somehow "gilded the Lily" to re-varnish: The Charge of the Light Brigade/ZULU Wars, TRENCHES-W.W.1. where, pretty much our LADS got slaughtered, or the Admiralty, never mind U.K. "Codebreakers/ENIGMA" haplessly provided NAZI Codebreakers with Atlantic Convoy data over at Club-lunches & Gin & Tonics! (NO T.V. History Documentaries ON THAT!!!): 55,000 Merchant Seaman victims of Nazi U-Boats! Adolf Hitler: "Thanks U dumb-ass Tommies for your indiscreet weekly updates!"

But GOD was always on Our side?

...In My Time I have dined with - Celebs! - F. Scott Fitzgerald's: The BEST, better STILL, Dined & laughingly DASHED even with Chase-Manhattan Bank, Lloyds of London personnel, Movie Stars UP the WAZEE which makes perhaps YOUR OWN nano-transgressions look like "Pea-Knuckle!" -Leastways, it doesn't/didn't lead to a WAR or a sovereign nations' "Coupe de tete!"... Train wrecks, BI-PEDAL take a long time to die. And a HOLLOW SOUL, an inverted-stigmata, some evil-within, curdling.... (Where R we going with this?)

 -Bitterness? Disappointments? -Some blood-clot on the brain/"OUT DAMNED SPOT!?" (The Scottish Play?) Perhaps REVENGE-REGRETS, REVENGE-REGRETS! -WHO will rid us of this Conscience's pestilence that haunts our frail, flitting dreams, no longer valiant as in our Youth, toward the Valley of the "has-beens", Hollywood; our grave already in place... A "Sanctuary of Eternity" until some Dirt Pig bulldozers over/"This is a QUALITY LOT! Did U know...Errol Flynn or Tyronne Power's bones may be "in-turned" beneath your basement? Think of the equity!!!"

...In my time, I have been directed, accepted, flourished in the MEGA-confusion of Our Time. I owned several Vinyl record collections, & at some - poverty - point PAWNED, Guitars! And Guitars like girlfriends, stolen, lost, came & went? Property/Riches, I never cared too much for, just $$$ (the Yankee Dollar), life's benzine, easily addictive, foolishly reaching out for MORE, yet all the while - oblivious-of - dangling from Poetry's meat hook!!! A Devil's dance. A St. Walpurgis Night. It won't be our last. "Puppets on a String!" (Whatever happened to 1960s Songstress Sandie Shaw "sans" footwear?)

ANGELS ABOVE scream & BAT their wings in frustration; that YOU do not OBEY Time/Destiny's universal dictation. For just who R we? Some plankton, a virus on a semi-spherical globe, dancing, a 'la cyclidic-Moon-dance partner. - Frivolous Debutantes, Space-Dressy-Bessy! ("Can U hear me Major Tom!?) No Man is an Island only the bone marrow of a hollow Soul. Like Seamen coursed upon a hidden reef, we scream BLACK HORROR, Sharks' teeth or Lawyers devour the rest.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Truckers, KICKERS & the Cowboy Angels!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix" "Truckers, Kickers & the Cowboy Angels!"

(dedicato: Veterans: Vietnamese, United Nations Forces & U.S.A. Soldiers.)

"Truckers, Kickers & Cowboy Angels."

...HAVE U EVER BEEN TO DISNEY-LAND? No? Me neither. I hear they have huge queues for every RIDE; I'd rather go to Church. Give ME a low-rent Buddy-Weiser BAR (the Red Sox kickin-Ass on big screen T.V.) every time where despondent Truckers, Kickers, Cowboy angels SULK, lonesome & have no Life's wisdom to readily impart 'cept to maybe ask: "Do U know the difference twix Whisky, Bourbon & Rye?" "Yup!" "So, mine's a DOUBLE! Set EM up!!"

...Lost in Purpose, lost in Prose, no "raison d'etre". Have U ever been to DISNEYLAND, Orange County, or F.L.A. to experience/be exposed, FRIED by another's (lesser) Mortals concept Man-Made fantasy? I doubt real fantasy IS an inexact science, less - bells & whistles - a FAIRY atop a Christmas tree, that mistle-toe KISS, as meaningful as a friendly Lawsuit? Still, MOM'S Curry, Fried Rice, Apple Pie will always see U through; dark days R inevitable. (Load up on Kleenex! Wetting the bed, apparently, is no excuse?)

...Not long for this world, a SHROUD, a Vietnam "conflict" (AHEM!!!) HUEY "dust-off" canopies our progress; barstools, spittoons, the baristas name, blind introductions, faces un-remembered, "Chicken wings", "Mirabelle" or just "Joe"? And, finding yourself OUT with the Truckers, the Kickers & the Cowboy Angels & (quoting Gene Parsons/songwriter) "there's a good Saloon in every single town" a blessing might sometimes enshroud U. The ceiling fan, WHIRLING above U. Faulty! It goes "AKA-AKA-AKA!" -U can't go back... That SMUDGE in the sky of dawn's early light. "SET EM UP BUDDY! U got it. Mine's a double!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "I SCREAM-A, U SCREAM-A, WE All Scream-A! - for Ice Cream!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "I Scream-A, U Scream-A, we ALL Scream-A for Ice-Cream!"

..."EVERYBODY'S RIGHT...THAT'S WOT I ALWAYS SAY!"...Sometimes, I even lend them $5.00 for reminding me. Comes OVER like a Media World horror photo U can never ever UN-SEE which cannonballs into your OWN personal (Jesus?) Edvard Munch's painting: The Scream!

(Singing:) "Always wear RAYBANS (Sunglasses) when U fire up your Doobie/Cigarette. U never know if that Bic lighter is gonna light your cigar or enflame your Wig or expensive Toupee! And never fry Bacon for breakfast IN DA NUDE".... No explanations, me-thinks R necessary.; tra-la-whoosits!" (Background Ambulance sirens/Anxious family; "Was it a Mafia-HIT!?).

...AS for ARTISTS (we self-throttle!), a DIAGALEV "Ballet Russ" dancing to a TUNE we will never understand yet a theme upon which we earn our "bread & butter", the Public's adoring gaze under the World-concept grand illusion, Culture's canopy, aloft; we flitter & we fly, a humanoid MOTH zeroing into the flame of Fame.

...Everybody's right. I always say DAT. And YOU, amongst many, the ONLY Woman I ever loved! Heroic, fortune or fame now, perhaps, pickle under your gaze; indolent, indifferent, lethargic, of relegated value? No gilding the Lily under the Klieg-light of eventual wisdom? Maturity, NAY! Old age doesn't take prisoners. Still. What's that Praying Mantis doing, silently, hanging on to your thigh?...

(Singing:) "I scream, U Scream, We ALL scream for Ice-Cream!" (Ain't dat how it goes?)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ARC du TRIUMPH!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ARC du Triumph!"

...THERE'S NO DENYING the WEIGHT, in OUR living memory, the DECADES, that seeping/slow flood of our Loves, friendships, hates, feuds, bickering, scores still to be settled, REGRETS & Blues, like SOUL REFUGEES to wear out sandals, shoes or fashionista "Winkle-Pickers"? (1960s Pointed footwear). A veritable Noah's Ark of memory!

...SALVATION, like a Las Vegas highway-roadside billboard to tempt an ailing Soul to divest his/her Life's potential, promise, riches, lonesome treasure, all U can pack into an airline-travel "wheelie-bag", like a protest/defense, a sword of JUSTICE which ALL invisible citizens, these days, can honorably still wield? Your bags wheels "mutter-mumble" on airport corridors as U advance headlong towards an un-certain - flight cancellation - destination?

...EMPORERS, kings, figureheads, in retrospect, histories' detritus, from Julius Caesar to J.F.K., to GANDHI! Recorded (?) upon Carrera marble or woven into a Bakara RUG to soak up some cultural big-shot's blood. And a funeral train. Soldiers, politicians, profiteers, women in weeps, sallow, some with heads held high, they too march, resolute: VICTA-VICTORI towards that Arc du Triumph, a seat of darkness where Angels are apt to vacuum its proximity.

...When, lastly U R "conveyed" in all pomp & glory upon the "Via Sacre" towards an ARC du TRIUMPH, even your Spirit, hovering above, is resigned to fading trumpets, that fickle/forgetting focus of the multitudes, and the inevitable "Ubliete", that un-knowing ZONE of your finite destiny which AFTER U R gone don't mean a Fig, nor whether the creek don't rise or your Noah's Ark is destroyed in shallows or the hidden coral reefs of destiny's un-certainty!

...(Singing:) "There's NO business like SHOW business! -TRA-LA-LA!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO-CRASHING!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO-CRASHING!"

...IT'S A TOUGH "MO-JO!" full knowing U've GROUD your (Writers') metaphors into dust? LIFE is an INTERDIT, a one-way street, a "cul-de-sac" and, indeed, fate or destiny, a passage du VIE! So, U give whatever cash on hand to the local street-orphan: "Go hit the Liquor store, Kid. Get me what I need."

...It's a TOUGH "Mojo" when U feel U have lost, a-kin to some un-wielding TWEEZERS extracting your inner-soul, suddenly EXPOSED like a shaven head on the Guillotine...just seconds before.

...It's a "MOJO" fondly remembered once in a Springtime's early light. U skipped the light-fandango, U knew how to fight! Where-as NOW the Soul still whispers, there's still a glint in your eye? A souvenir from when the world was your oyster, an array of pearls in your smile.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.