Our Man in Europe/now Belize; "LOWRIDER!"
Lowrider? Dark is the night, a silhouette of a swirling Samauri, a black & SILVER, a silken kiss that defies comprehension yet kisses your face, your veil.
LOWRIDER, that Saint or Demon at your frigid door. A sword-swishing, an EVENT U cannot distill that awakens your Dreams into ever-disturbance. (Traffic cruises by.)
Lowrider. When U fumble for crumbles of LOGIC yet cannot explain. And all the King's soldiers & all the King's men ne'er can fix your transient world?
Lowrider. A haunting-mind trouble. The stuff nightmares are made of. That origami. A concept, a digestive-swallowed to usurp the best laid plans of Generals-in-battle, Wise Men & Fools & a certain Lady Macbeth? (Mind? U R not in any Movie!)
Lowrider. That hitch-hiking HIGHWAY without a ride? U hike to a lonesome Interstate Truck-Stop... Change for a coffee? Maybe some kind soul will buy U a piece of pie? The song playing on the Jukebox now perhaps, will haunt U forever.
c. Dave Delacroix.
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