Our Man in Europe/dave delacroix/ "The UN dead."

oUR mAN IN eUROPE/dave delacroix/"The UN DEAD."


(dedicato: Sarah B. Solo.)


The UN Dead SIT in your face, like a DICK, a PUSSY, looking PALE... that somehow seems NORMAL, a SQUID, ready to KILL, your MACKEREL, love, lust, protest; a sense of Build and/or to Destroy?
The UN-Dead VOTE for your MAN, your WIFE, your LIFE then - sometimes -  penalize your KIDS for NOT being UN-DEAD?
The UN-Dead, technically, DIED at the first heartbreak, when daddy, in his fit of rage, crushed their TOYS, or Mommy-Dearest RIPPED out your  first Curling Irons: Oh Yes! The UN-Dead! That FIRST SLIP. THAT TERRIBLE SLAP!!!  A poignant kick in the CEREBRAL ZONE: FATAL.

"Was THAT when I died, Bobby-Rae?"
"YUP, Enola-Mae. Just like when Daddy took a SAW-BELT to me and thrashed me and my brothers for NO reason. And so he had to go?"
"Ya think?"
"YO Enola Mae. It's the WORLD some folks say? Boys and Girls in Teaching Schools, Governors of STATES, big time Politicians in WASHINGTON D.C., UN-dead, a PUMP of LIFE kept 'em GOING
working OUT and SURROUNDED by the UN-Dead?"
"Our COUNTRY'S LEADERS are UN-Dead!?"
"Yup!"
Enola-Mae asks: "How do they LIVE, Bobby-Rae!?"
Bobby-Rae answers: "Weee'll, I guess, like Corpses wrestling in the dark Earth, singing an UN-heard tune?"
"Are WE "UN-dead", Bobby-Rae?" asks Enola-Mae.
Bobby-Rae: "Not a DANG, Anola-Gay: ....by Asking!"...:)



c2017/davedelacroix/vitt. Emman. Cafe. Sciacca. Sicily. Bella Elenora: Head Waitress....:)