Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ ...Route: 666

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "...Route: 666."


"...DA EMPTY PHONE on Wednesday don't count. Better Friday, twist & shout. FAT FUCK!? -hope he got the "MESSGE", that BITCH: Look for new BLOW JOB! -text-ing, 70 mph, Inter-state, I-70, denver Colorado to frickin' - who cares? - MAINE? And dat GAL I once loved and left, left her at the church, steeple, stairs, like an empty phone; click.

"...DA empty phone, umbilical: "Honey? Kids are OK? STEPHAN KING didn't mash 'em up?"-and,
"I TOLD U not to drive SOUTH of Cortez on  Route 666; da devils highway?"
(Incoherent chuckles from the kitchen...)
"YA DID!? Ya did!? Couldn't ya ad stayed at da DINER!?"
"S'wear am callin' from!?"

An empty phone, somehow, someplace, that wipes the Winter SNOT clean, across ya face; with no denying?...OLD DUDES consider sagging Dicks. OLD GALS "sigh": last menstruation.
KIDS "Pogo". No brain.
The kernel of your life...and an empty phone.
CLICK.




c 2015/davedelacroix/Ragusa-Italia-Sicily.

Our Man in Europe/ dave delacroix/ "Jamaica Town."

Our Man in REurope/ dave delacroix/ "Jamaica Town."


(A Sea Shanty.)


"...ALL THE RAZORS we have shaved, me Boys! All the bloody cuts and scarf's? The ORDERS, from fools above...wearing a tinsel crown? Your King? Your God? Gimme JUANITA at Porta Prince, or Megan at Jamaica town?
RUM, SODOMY, THE LASH: AND NO DENTAL PLAN!!?
I will sail no more for the Gold of Fools.
...Cap'n KYDD's burried loot??? -U ask;
Y'all better yak with the Ship's Cook!...



c 2015/davedelacroiox/CAPTAIN, on the Good SHIP: "Yo MOMMA"!

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "...Curse of ISIS."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "...Curse of ISIS."


The DANG hot summer! And now it's late September; git to wear some threads, man! -get to SHOUT: Fashionista-baby!, get to divert: Get to divert.

My BUDS (Marc P.) in the UK pray for Sun! In Sicily? Gimmie da rain; least ways, solar respite. Here, "Saville Row" is extinct (Geeves & Hawkes are waiting tables?) and Madison Ave, NYC, tutte-fossilized as well it should...excepting that ONE creation: the Fedora.

On the Sicilian beach, salt water sun blisters turn to MUSH. High end Paramedics circle my fellow beach Lobsters like dying mosquito's - the last blood/the dying in effigy? - and buzz, hum, buzz: an Administration.

"Does it RAIN like this out at sea?" -asks my Beach-bikini-Babee, from our sandy beach promontory.
"Sure does, mi amore." I reply. "WORSE!"
"But no-one is there to witness!?" -she half protests, half hurrahs.
I'm glum: "Nope, Cheri. Ce pt da refugees, moms and kids, who - as we speak - float in insanitary inflatables, now washing up on GREEK and ITALIAN shores?"
"But they are MUSLIMS!" -insists my beloved. "Will they INTEGRATE quickly!? They won't!"
(I pause.) "And situation, reversed, would YOU?"
"But that's NO ANSWER!!!" -retorts the YIN to my YANG.
I reluctantly reply: "I know."

The DANG hot Summer! And now it's late September....



c 2015/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO Esq./Modica-Sicily.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix esq./: "The Swan."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "THE SWAN."

(dedicato: Geena. With love.)


SWANS don't YAK, they glide and kill U with a SWOT of the neck, like a knife!
U SQUAWK? THEY scream...!
Some-one's dead, some die; the others, left on the other side: There's that.

Kiss-Gone! Piss-Memory! Piss-U! A kissed lonely fool. What's WHAT? What IS? -Just the sound of a Swan: "HIZZZZZ!!!!" -Just a sound. A Swan. Swans don't YAK, they glide...and kill U with a swot of the Neck, like a knife.

U SQUAWK? Swans Hizzzz!!!...THEY ska-reem! (SKA-REAM!!!). Some-one's dead. Some die. The others, left on the other side; And U? There's that.


c 2015/dave delacroix/modfica-sicily.

Our Man in Europe/ dave delacroix/ "Monika della Luna."

Our Man in Europe/ dave delacroix/ "Monika della Luna."


HIPS sway, swathed in silk wraps,
nubile, and exotic eyes
that speak pain,
defiance and TORN rain,
glides, a phantasm: Monika della Luna.

Latin, sinew, movement;
traffic pauses
CHOKED on its own pollution of thoughts without/
too dark to fathom
...on Monika della Luna.

And an AGE of Soul
conveyed to her one child
without who
she would drift into Purgatory?
A phantasm: Monika della Luna.

...She mouths, "I love U."
Blows me a goodnight kiss
then switches on the Red Light;
A phantasm!
Monika della Luna...



c 2015/davedelacroix/our man in sicily-modica.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Yesterday's Clown."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Yesterday's Clown."


(dedicato: Denver Joe: A compadre.)


YESTERDAY'S Clown; no tears. No money for face paint that enhanced a ZOOM, that spelt magic for a million kids, who lived in sad rooms, once soared? Or a nostalgic voice, now edged RAW in Time's advent of - perhaps? -  a worthless yesterday? And PROFILE, those EYES, "a facia!",  that - cinematic ally - beguiled the "Bard's", or "Willie Nelson's" words, now: DANG! -fallen on hi-tech wounds that can never be healed? Like Yesterday's Clown. The Crestfallen. All the crestfallen, worth only gossip over a Vermouth in the hyena (critics) trough's endless day; a commodity for which no-one will pay, finance, or give the lee of way, hurting in its exigency like a NASHVILLE, over-looked back alley. NO clean-up. No Resurrection, like Yesterday's Clown, the destined metamorphosis of the Damned... who line the limited imagination of the multitudes.... And SO some folks would say...
Yesterday's Clown? Only Pride. No tears. Though I, declare my own.



c 2015/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO/Pozzalo-Sicily-Italy

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "SMOKE 'EM if U got 'em!"

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "SMOKE 'EM if U got 'em!"


(dedicato: Giada @ Cafe Adamo)


Smoke 'em if you got 'em! Your name be Leonardo, ZAZI, Alberto, GIADA or Sue; but the world awaits, awaits U?

Smoke 'em if U got 'em; sss-whats' mah Madre used to say, excepting Christmas or when-ever the Vicar came 'round, OR - for some unknown reason? - on Pancake Day!?

Smoke 'em if U got 'em, the Sergeant advised the troops...on the Thin Red Line; soon to be at heaven's door or in the Well of Souls?

Smoke 'em if U got 'em, Juliet sighs: Romeo? -"Get a frick'in job... or smoke ya bloody own!"

Smoke 'em! Smoke 'em! But chill with da "Toke'in." ...As for your future? Be well, be good, be safe. And try to be brave...when U die with that smoke on your lips?

Smoke 'em if U got 'em. Your name be Leonardo, ZAZI, Alberto, Giada or Sue; but the World awaits, awaits for U?...


c 2015/davedelacroix/our dude in Modica-Sicily. (Fireworks nite?)

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "...Walkin' on da Sun!"

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "...Walking on the Sun."


(dedicato: Alper -from Turkey)


WALKING on the sun, walking on the beach. The girl with the Silver in her eyes? -She stoops to conquer, picks up a sea-shell, gives it to YOU; U are lost, forever.

WALKING on da sun, main street, walking; neither shade nor glare hinders your progress...in the terrible Love that is yet to come.

Walking, my friend, on the sun. Take a walk on the beach. The girl with the Silver in her eyes? -She stoops to conquer, picks up a sea-shell, presents it to you: U, now, await the Tomorrow...



c 2015/davedelacroix/SAMPIERE, Sicily.

Our Man in Europe/ dave delacroix/ "When KATYA sings..."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "When Katya Sings..."


When Katya sings, Mongol hoards, stopped in their tracks? When Katya sings, and the reindeer bells that ring, can kill a Czar?
It's only the whisper, light, upon the snow; when Katya sings.

Wish at Orion's belt, or upon a solid, a planet, MARS? When Katya sings, Balalaikas RING just like when Katya sings? -Don't you worry bout your Man? Don't you worry bout da kids? OR-da Government blown to bits!?...when Katya sings? It's only the whisper of the fleeting, surface snow, a translucent history: When Katya hums, then sings?  When Katya sings...


c 2015/davedelacroix/modica-Sicily.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "The VECCHIO Man."

Our Man in Europe/ dave delacroix/ "The VECCHIO Man."


(singin':) HE don't vote Christian or Musselman. He don't wear his pants above his span. He don't kiss da Gals and make 'em cry. He don't ask questions; he KNOWS just why? -He's da VECCHIO, the OLD, vecchio Man. He's da vecchio, H'uomo: Does the best dat he can.

HE's got opinions; who the hell don't? He's Democratic, but never votes. He's got family who he thinks are INSANE, but half the time, he wants to join in their game. He's da VECCHIO U'omo, the vecchio man; and - lonesome like U? - gets it when he can.

HE got some money -under da bed? His kids and grand-kids always get fed. A College sponsor (Sicily), a word or two, the Mafioso say: "No problem, Dude!" He got no problem, long as the sun  shines...and music plays under those vines? -He's da Vecchio U'omo, the Vecchio Man: WANNA BE SOMEBODY!? -Sicilian vecchio Man.


c 2015/davedelacroix/Sept. Modica-Sicly

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Fashion-ista in the Rain."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Fashion-ista in the Rain."


(Pioggi? -Rain.)

DANG! Adios, "foundation cream". Mascara -slithers. Lipstick? -DA JOKER (Batman?)! Hair extensions, lost in the Strada-pioggi river of NO return? Shoes SQUELCH (Broke a heel?) and the damned "Designer", Milano  "originals" (Lanvin?), the outfit dyes the sidewalk; obviously NOT "original." "Hm mm...Indigo? S'posed to be Mauve!"
So where, just where, do you get off this Pioggi Bus in Milano centrale?

Standing next to you, ducking the pioggi downpour, under an Armani biz/CLOSED-canopy, the Gatano (Gypsy) girl, 10 -maybe 12 years old; she panhandles YOU! WHOO! ZE FASHION-ISTA...in the rain. But rain or shine, this KID must beg, otherwise, no food, no love, and the CLAN Matriarch will beat her black and blue: Money, money, money! ROMANY lingua!
So what do you do? What do you do?

Something stirs. Something long forgotten. Something stirs...

You strip down to your Intermissi underwear, divest yourself of all your jewelry, then present "tutte" (the whole caboodle!) to the Gatano kid...and with a GULP, step boldly - Milano Centrale - forward, into the rain, whistling,  but whistling in a new life, perhaps;  like a fashion-ista in the rain?



c 2015/davedelacroix/modica-Sicily/It might as well as rain until September!...:)

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Cup of the Moon."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Cup of the Moon."


(dedicato: The fallen in the Great War: 1914-1918)


In the cup of the moon -kids go NUTS, making bella noise, Madre and Pappa RE-fall in love (again), there's food on the table, vino for the Students of Life, and even grim, wise men have been known to crack a smile?

In the cup of the moon, ventures, successfully embarked, sound business decisions are made, re-unions ocurr, friends shaking hands, lovers unite, a Soldier throws away his rifle; and - WHOA! - a message, lost, re-found, to clarify an UN-requited love, rediscovered, saying: "I still love you!" -in the cup of the moon.

In the cup of the moon, no-one "sadly" waits or pines. The unknown Soldier, forgotten, buried, rises to the Pearly Gates! And the kids, then adults, for Freedom fought, of yester-year, we so proudly hail, in adversity, in courage, who did there Cricket best, now no longer alone... in the cup of the moon where-in - for you? - I wait.



c 2015/davedelacroix/modica-sicily-italy.

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "Sempre Amore."

Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/"Sempre Amore."


"Stai-bene, ragazzo?..
Broken heart?
 Benvenuto dolce vita!
 Lunedi, Primavera.
 Domenica? -Morte!

 Allora, ragazza, "tempest fugit!"
 Oggi, la luna;
 domani? -WHOOPEE-DO!
 -You shine like the Sun.
Allo attenzione
 alla mia faccia ragazza...
 Amore vai!

 Ieri?
 Like you, like the Sun.
 Oggi, no Blues,
 only "il canzone" of Soul: Il Vita.

Stai-bene, ragazza?
 Domani arriva!
 Bello domani.
Amore? Davida?
...Sempre ecco.


c 2015/davedelacroix/modica-Sicily.