Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix..... R U THERE!
R U THERE Mister Universe, R U there... Cheerleader from Paradise to Post-Graduate my Spirit into Tomorrow, far from the madding crowd... It-s Sooooo hard to BE a SEX SYMBOL but I-m trying Mah best twix Alzheimer's, poverty, sudden Riches and a le recherche du temps perdu... WHO! What Fucker! If I cried OUT would hear me amongst the Order of the ANGELS....Rainer Maria Rilke...OR! GOE and catch a falling Star!...John Donne. Echoes of Rhythm, Innocence, stark terror, or Guilt that drives ALL, that drives YOU to your Sticking Post...if not beyond...
R U THERE Missus Universe.... R U THERE. The MAMA of Lust, Sanctity, Sweet Delores /Our Sista of Pain, U 2 steps UP, down 3, like skinny Fred Astaire, nimble, skeletal, in a Pre-ordained dance of Death, UN-account ably, the Hollywood masses applaud /OU SANS LES NEIGE D-ANTAN, Yesterdays snows, now UN-founded in a whirlpool of Avant-Suck-My-Vagina-Culture, destination-Unknowing, least ways not back to the WOMB, UN-signposted, same as it EVER was, same as it ever was!
OH! I was forgetting! That POSTAGE Stamp KISS, that LICK-KISS on the envelope. I didn-t keep it. I should have. A Testament. A Souvenir. A POST-MAIL of TIME itself...without which BEING is worthless, forgotten and defused... or sit with Billy Shakespeare, U IZ or not IZ.
R U there! R U There! R U There!
c2018,davedelacroix,sciacca,sicily.
R U THERE Mister Universe, R U there... Cheerleader from Paradise to Post-Graduate my Spirit into Tomorrow, far from the madding crowd... It-s Sooooo hard to BE a SEX SYMBOL but I-m trying Mah best twix Alzheimer's, poverty, sudden Riches and a le recherche du temps perdu... WHO! What Fucker! If I cried OUT would hear me amongst the Order of the ANGELS....Rainer Maria Rilke...OR! GOE and catch a falling Star!...John Donne. Echoes of Rhythm, Innocence, stark terror, or Guilt that drives ALL, that drives YOU to your Sticking Post...if not beyond...
R U THERE Missus Universe.... R U THERE. The MAMA of Lust, Sanctity, Sweet Delores /Our Sista of Pain, U 2 steps UP, down 3, like skinny Fred Astaire, nimble, skeletal, in a Pre-ordained dance of Death, UN-account ably, the Hollywood masses applaud /OU SANS LES NEIGE D-ANTAN, Yesterdays snows, now UN-founded in a whirlpool of Avant-Suck-My-Vagina-Culture, destination-Unknowing, least ways not back to the WOMB, UN-signposted, same as it EVER was, same as it ever was!
OH! I was forgetting! That POSTAGE Stamp KISS, that LICK-KISS on the envelope. I didn-t keep it. I should have. A Testament. A Souvenir. A POST-MAIL of TIME itself...without which BEING is worthless, forgotten and defused... or sit with Billy Shakespeare, U IZ or not IZ.
R U there! R U There! R U There!
c2018,davedelacroix,sciacca,sicily.
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