Our Man in Europe/now Belize. Dave Delacroix: "OTHELLO/Smokey-Bacon!"
WHO's the DEVIL, who's the SCOURGE, who, that ORIENT DRAGON, that's tongue lips your skin? Who's the IAGO, the JUDAS-close that nestles in a pit of vipers? And if it's someplace close, a faithful "Amis", yet paranoia-EXPANDS-proportiate like an inner virus, a Traitor in your mist, a fog which U cannot kiss?
Who's your silent NEMISIS, that un-seen GLANCE from a crowd, that yellow-jacket-jealousy somehow U aroused, a lack of intuition-far from the madding crowd, the one U cannot identify: "J'Accuse!" Days end?
Poorer U. SMOKEY-BACON. What to do. Dresses & trinkets have no prize. And LOVE, perhaps, seriously Jaded, waves faintly from a prairie Cowboy's morning fireside where a thin line of smoke only rises into a pale Iago sky? SMOKEY BACON. WotchagonnaDO?
c.davedelacroix,
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