Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: ""Alas, Poor Yorrick!"

 Our Man in Europe/now in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Alas, poor Yorick!" (Après William Shakespeare.)

...CAN ANYBODY LEND ME $20? I got no money & I desperately NEED a serious drink! Can anyone give me an Interstate Highway RIDE; I'm hitchhiking from N.Y.C to L.A; gotta get to the other side? Better U carry a Banjo, Guitar or SHOTGUN in your Violin case. Sub-cultural predators, faggots & Rednecks R always on the prowl? COPS, Federales, sometimes U get lucky/a few good Officers out there but better keep your (Barney Fifes?) fingers crossed. (Piped T.V. laughter!)

 Can anyone DIG me outta this HOLE I'm IN; U-betcha! This hole, the grave? I got here by my own sad-assed self-winding? Does anyone know - no tricks! - the road to EL DORADO...I couldn't find it by myself. Stand-up Comedy don't pay SHIT less Hollywood likes U or a faggot media Prince likes your Ass? These days, (Noel Coward song:) "Don't put your daughters on the Stage Mrs. Worthington!" Even established Film Starlets R under siege!? (Weinstein/Epstein!) Tip of a rancid iceberg.

...I have, nevertheless, despite Hollywood's "slings & arrows" accrued some fame, albeit MORE notoriety, (chain-smoking & getting drunk R no longer fashionable) & having been a Minstrel, played the Court-Jester, a Courtly FOOL. My name is YORICK & "post-mortem", too late for ME but a Prince of Denmark immortalized my name as I had dwarf-sat on his childhood shoulders in Castle/Palace/ELSINORE, & later, his discovery, of my skull & bones inspired/published my historic fame; yet a loan of $20 (cheap Danish Prince fricker!!!) came clearly too late!

Can anyone, traveler who pass on by, donate a cheap-ass Wreath, a WESTERN-UNION remittance or a Bank Check which'll NOT BOUNCE/it don't matter anymore? Lend me $20? I GOT/had no ducats, even back in my Day: A Fool of FOOLS & now my legacy - bad jokes excusing! - now a King of Fools in a Fools abandoned grave. A YORICK who, interned in some backwoods: CANOGA PARK, a scant mile away, though I never felt lonely, not far from the company of where the Stars & Starlets in Hollywood now lay.

(SINGING, Ronnie & the Ronettes:) "...BE MAH, BE MAH BABY, BE MAH BABEE NOW-OW!!!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our MAN in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Robbing (Saint) PETER to PAY (Saint) PAUL!...

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Robbing Peter to pay Paul! /Mammas Bank Account!"

...ROBBING (Saint) PETER TO PAY (Saint) PAUL, a fiscal situation in everyone's life, later to be buried in your Soul? For WHO has not "alibied" a guilty friend or shuffled a TAROT card to exact, prediction-anonymous for no good end? And when the VINO seeps into your regret, non-confession/Societal modesty? Poverty's song creeps into our Night. Yet U aided a friend in their plight?

Robbing BUDDA to pay MOHAMED, a CULT-TRICKSTER like a Libertine, in FARO (Card sharp!) I too have indeed "palmed" a card or 2 to make up your loss, yet in love still I knew I was losing U? And though I have no pity for these - cerebral-deficient/brain-washed - these Islamic zealots, their evil IMANS, who promise a reward of 97 Virgins in heaven for murdering innocent folks to undertake a suicide mission? What retardation? What inner stuck-GLUE!?

Robbing Peter to pay Paul, those WW2 British housewives, forever in a grocery queue, Penny-wise conjuring, to make ends meet to make sure the Kids got fed & a coal miner/steel factory husband dirtied/tired comes home for his dinner & doesn't bawl U out? Robbing Peter to pay Paul is sometimes the only way the lady of the house can make ends meet! Maybe on a Sunday, the village Dance, her best dress, she makes it her best!

And AS NEEDS-MUST, the wolves at the door, just WHO -these days- Robin Hoods no longer steal from the rich and share with the poor? -Leastways, no-one I know! (2026!); absolute CANNIBALISM: The Rich R plundering the Rich! -"HOOP-LA!" -Trump, Infantino, Putin, Epstein-Morte! (May he rot in Hell!) Republicans, UK Tory Grandees? U can hang the lot!!!

Robbing Peter to pay Paul, "THE BOYS BY THE LAKE", the DISCIPLES, location: Sea of Galilee, sometime to be crucified, those "fishers of Men"/Mary Magadelene excluded: "Do WE HAVE 2 play with GIRLS!? -probably cheating each other on the Dead Sea shoreline, gambling with fish when they lost all their Shekels all except Judas -HE was playing for a Wall Street Silver currency gains? Even today, 2026, its value has remained suspiciously low?

Robbing (Saint) Peter to pay (Saint) Paul! Sometimes NEEDS-MUST, Death to dust on Life's - sometimes - laborious/unglamourous treadmill for the long, the short & the tall. Not to forget Kathryn Forbes' classic short story: "Mamma's Bank Account." It didn't exist of course...but it made the Kids feel secure.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Robbing (Saint) PETER to pay (Saint) Paul

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

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

...WE ARE NOT DEPARTED when we R gone. Someone, somewhere - Over the Rainbow? - Maybe a Mass, a Kaddish, a loved one will sing your Song? U. R. never Departed, not quite, when U. R. gone.

WE R. not departed, not un-forgotten though SOME would wish it so; a dime-a-dozen, inevitably wash up on Hades' bleak shore. The Usual/Historical suspects: Tamburlaine, Napoleon, Hitler or Stalin. And why not Julius Caesar who executed the holocaust of Gaul/France?

We R not Departed anymore. Buried, cremated, and those glittering prizes we leave behind to echo our fledgling zeal? Our Soldiers (less we forget), genius composers, POETS! Or a famed romance & "all our yesterdays" yet still to be remembered! Generations/ERA'S confounded, sometimes prematurely to dusty death?

Yet to be personally FORGOTTEN, we mere mortals, perhaps the saddest blow!

We R. not departed though our gravestone, family-crypt, Sepulcher, Mausoleum, erased by history or fallen into disrepair; an ancient Greek Lyre accompanying a Trojan War lyric, or a Mead-fueled Viking Saga, in an ill-wind can still to be heard...for someone, a loved one, somewhere out there!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "SILENCE-SILENCIO!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Silence-Silencio!"

...SILENCE IS GOLDEN, Silence is LONELY. The sound of Silence sometimes beats like a drum! Silence un-ravels the chaotic noise of the madding crowd like a lightning bolt or the discharge of a gun?

...There's no denying the joy of societies' "hullabaloo" or the "Whisky in the JAR-O!" And kisses-sweet -Well met, my friend! - yet (A'la recherche du temps perdu.) we reminisce, but passion-illusive (?) disappears like the morning's dew?

Silence/SILENCIO! -Maybe under a Harvest or a blood-red full Moon; like a dagger-drawn, a GUILLOTINE, a mystic blackmailer to haunt wherever U may roam...in that Silence, our inner Silence, that specter, genetic wishbone

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GO-WHISTLE!/A COVID BLUE!

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GO-Whistle!/A Covid Blue."

(A Song!)

...GO-WHISTLE! Go WHISTLE! Go whistle like the wind! Go take your Trade to someplace else. GO=Whistle! I don't need U in my World.

 Go Sampan, or set sail in a matchbox all the way to China, get an extended VISA into yourself? A GREEN CARD? Experience? Maybe it should be black & blue? No-one can ever know what it took to be U? There R always memories which we cannot share; a COVID-Blue?

Go-whistle! Go whistle! Go whistle in the wind...and maybe U TOO will (John Donne/Elizabethan Poet:), "will find a WAY to advance an honest mind."

Go-whistle! Go to blazes, baby. Go whistle like the wind. Go take your trade to someplace else. Go-whistle! We don't need U in our world.

v.2026/Dave Delacroix.

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

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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.