OUR MAN in Europe, Dave Delacroix, "The Lullaby."

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix, "The Lullaby."

...the lullaby, that rocking, the sway, in the WOMB never leaves a subconscious too soon, lingers on to compose a poem, song, or rage or hate but DOES prevail in the cold light of Life to wither, despair, or leadership, make WAR or gathers wisdom, a sinew, tentacle to compose or decide, a spirit in its ICE or HEAT to burn the dynamic which pronounced, worthy of surrounds honored or threatened, likely too a lions cub abandoned, grounded, hungered, a thirst for Tomorrow's meat, night or day beyond that womb-lullaby, paws pat in anticipation: STRIKE! A Violin-Quartet, Mandolin, a cold Guitar at an "auto da fe" or genetic-origami to be-devil no intelligence-fathomed: "OLE!" that lullaby residing in your Soul. Wicked brew this song of songs, driving Mans nature to oblivion, destitute, again, to be re-born in the lullaby, SOUL, but more likely, pander to pander for cognac, caviar, who will bake your bread?

c.davedelacroix, corozal, belize.