Our Man in Belize, dave delacroix, No: 114: "Witchata Linesman.".

 OUR MAN in BELIZE: N0: 114, "Witchata Linesman."

The WICTH IN YA wisdom, the BUG in your EAR that resonates where-with they had to burn U at the Stake? The Witchery in your Cauldron which U stirred and gave ferment to INQUISITION-noses, the Papist Lice which desired your inferno, who would/should save your fibre/knowledge that U, defiant kissed existence "Goodbye!", Goodbye Fuckers!....

Somehow, like Jesus Christ, ya gave HOMO SAPIEN the "Finger" and got out of the Gig?

The WICHATA in your WISDOM like a WITCHATA LINESMAN, the Song, U died but your SONG haunts? I can hear U through the WIRE!

Conquest, vanquished, Invasion, Muslim-medaevilism, Papist doctrine, LAUGH or CRUSH; 2,000 YEARS, we will never BE friends; Internally they call it RASCISM, Internationally, nobody INTEGRATES....leastways not Muslims?

BURN the RABBIES, PRISTS, IMANS, as soon as possible. Of course? Hang all the LAWYERS.

The WITCHATA Linesman?...I can hear him in the wire.

c.2022, davedelacroix, our man in europe.

OUR MAN in BELIZE, dave delacroix, No:113: "The Poets sing my Song."

OUR MAN in BELIZE, dave delacroix, No: 113: "The Poets sing my Song."

(Apres John Donne)

Is your love, MY love, is your love, my love, that gift or hell that makes us ALL? Is your love the sweetest nectar, hungered whispered, a balcon breeze or is your love that curse...now, upon me?... that freezes and then decides to squeeze? After-all, love and death?...  Is your love that FIRST love that U have found which spins the heart a round-a-round? Is your love that mettle-wisdom on the road to NO love at all? Tell me!  Is your love,  that fix-me-quick, a fornication, a desire? Or is your love lasting true, though I am far away I DO come home to you? FA-LA, if I had only known; the Poets sing my Song!?....She awaited. YES! For my ardent  kiss. Loves Vanquished quarrels ALL beneath Loves uncaring feet! Is your Love, my Love too? That Gift or Hell that makes or kills us All?

c.2022,dave delacroix.

OUR MAN IN EUROPE, dave delacroix, N0: 112, "SCIACCA."

 Our Man in Europe/Belize, No 112: "SCIACCA."

For my BARBER/grande fratello: Lenny Amedeo.

The song of Bernadette, thee song of your SISTA, or the song of your brother? Did he die a Traitor, Patriot or a STRANGER who was never THERE? The SONG of your family who hid FOOD, said, "Sure!" then saw your daughter be raped or the bambini, potentially starve?

In ENGLAND too we saw much deprivation, in WAR?

The Song of Bernadette, your Grandfather is "WORDS-LESS" coz he witnessed his Cowardice when PALERMO hit SCIACCA and stole all the food; first time, 2nd time, we hid our Rice/beans, we hid em in the Sciacca-tunnels. WE!? We kids looked innocent, looked desperate. In England, no dodging the bombing? Little food Amico!

The song of Bernadette. Or some Statue of Maria which U see us follow round on our Sciacca Streets? Maybe it got BETTER when "SEDOTTA E ABBANDONATO", the MOVIE prevailed and/or gave HOPE of a Sciacca-tomorrow, a MOVIE to give HISTORY an illusion? Either way, Women, Ladies, the Girls got-still a bad/infamous-cultural deal!...Who cries for a Donna!?

In WAR or PEACE the food we hide....is CONCEIT. Survival is everything. And when I go to your Barber-Shop I THINK...somehow, we are wounded.

c.davedelacroix.

OUR MAN in BELIZE, dave delacroix, No: 112: " POWER CUT. "

OUR MAN in BELIZE, dave delacroix, No: 112: "Power Cut." 

After the POWER CUT, 1 hour in the DARK every body was kissin somebody ELSE?

 The really BIG PALM TREES in the yard were masturbating frantically. (My weird insight) Naturally, lonely DAVE, I had nothing to DO with it; suggestions, lets go to the sea shore/ some BOD says: "CROCS", I replied, "New soles on my SOUL might BE an idea?" -some chuckles, and AS they were all "lights-out" smooching I emmersed my aging rectus in the sangour-torquise bay, fearing not man nor beast, a cererbal encyclopedia of western civilization, a gift to a cayman/crocodile for all I cared? The bayshore sea, warm as a mothers womb?

After the POWER CUT, the lights came back ON

 In the bay of Coraozal, Belize. I-d returned to my Villa but I could clearly HEAR the giggles turned to SCREAMS; no one died but the CROCS were, like life, on patrol.

Kissin in the dark? Sometimes the Crocs, god help us, but they ARE there! Like kissing in the dark?

c.davedelacroix, our man in belize, 2022.

Our Man in Belize:, dave delacroix, Belize, No:109: "Le Marsellaise."

Our Man in Belize, dave delacroix Belize, No:109: "French song, Le Marsellaise."

dedicato: Jonathan/artist, down in BZ City.

EVERYBODYS GAL wore her sanitary pad, LINED UP by the NAZIS to get shot by a firing squad? And everybody IN the FIRING SQUAD might-a peed their pants some minutes later? There Kommandants! Righteous Robots one and All; still exist; roamin Bayern or Bier-keller ghettos, the GAULEITERS who NOW inhabit IMMIGRATION/BORDER posters-international? A Clerk with his PEN to deny another persons humanity?...And every body-s GOD? Well, we know what to do HERE: Burn the Priests & Hang the Lawyers!?..When U enter an Airport/Cross a BORDER and U meet these beaurocratic THIEVES remember the 2,000 (TWO THOUSAND!) Jewish French Ladies who were FORCEd-MARCH into the GAS CHAMBER singing THE MARSELLAISE! Defiant in their degraded beauty? And in the face of THEIR anhililation let your continued  EXISTENCE tremble or YOU like THEY, for grasping moments, ponder your living-eternal night; what ressurection, what justice, what light comes to your awful tangent?...And sing: Le Marseillaise?

c.2022. dave delacroix, corozal, belize.UK, USA, border controls staffeed by NATURAL FASCISTS. Ya pay peanuts ya get Monkeys!

Our Man in Belize, dave delacroix, No: 108, "Am I the Fool?"

 Our Man in Belize, dave delacroix, No: 108: "Am I the Fool?"

AM I THE FOOL, the now, bankrupt USE, that oiled your Tomorrow? Am I the BITCH that made the switch from Hero to Hermione? 

Am I the fool who danced on your HIP and taught U how to TWITCH your bank-account? Am I the FOOL, no fool like an OLD fool who found his SELF, a forgotten History?

AM I THE FOOL who danced, jack-knifed, sommer-sault, paid for EVERYTHING: twice? Am I the fool in a LAND of Fools were Moralities Compass has no vice? 

We sailed Eastward, some went WEST and all we found was a COLD-ancient breast of WOMAN, frigid who said to me; la belle sans merci gonna ball U! Suck mah tits/leave the rest to me?

AM I the fool, now in TROPIC HEAVEN with few needs and caring-society? Am I the FOOL, now aged-a Man writing Poetry for Tomorrow's Child?

c.2021, dave delacroix, corozal-belize.