Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "...All dem Bugs!"
(dedicato: Marcello...and all the boys on the F-1 track!)
This side of Marcello S., burnt, blistered (FORMULA ONE/Race car driver); "all dem bugs?" -in a GIG that has no meaning except to DRIVE young men to their destruction?, and (all dem BUGS?) just what ORGASM do they feel (all dem bugs?) sweaty, under the fleeting (glory-thingy) checkered flag?
ALL DEM BUGS, Cinzano, fuck-all advertising, Marcello S., Nicki Lauda burnt face that NO hooker would want to kiss, un-like Gille V., a corpse, stinking in his coffin, un-heralded by Michelin, the Restaurant STAR guide?
And WHo (just who?) am I, some David, awaiting Life's Goliath ( a train) at Monaco railway station, to complain, least, observe? -Amidst Human-insanities petroleum fumes?... Puff! Puff! The jalopy arrives (Diesel-thingy)?
An elegant Lady boards the newly arrived Whassit? - train. Portmanteaus, porters, tips are exchanged. With a passing glance, almost a sigh, she whispers: "Montecarlo? Too many bugs!"
Sideways, I commiserate.
c2016/davedelacroix
No comments:
Post a Comment