Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Cafe-Espresso."
HOW DO WE DIE on the cusps of eternity, or sealed by a Lover's kiss, or surrounded by Lawyers or "Ju-Ju" men? Or surrounded by fawning relatives hoping for a WILL-handout, that inheritance, their impatient foot-dangling for a Patriarch who lived far too long? GOD KNOW'S Bob Dylan's song, SAD EYED LADY OF THE LOWLANDS, a song that lasts interminable not to mention MILTON'S "Paradise Lost". Then, to exhaust the reading public "Paradise FOUND!"? (Foot dangling fails?)
Was it those DREARY paintings by DURER or Rembrandt, icons of artistic reconsideration, the lack of Cholera, the lack of PLAGUE-would nothing immediate take U away? Is there no WIT or final WISDOM to skip U on your way, a last PULSE! -No AXE or broadsword! Let's call in SALIDIN with a Scimitar, maybe an accomplished SAMAURI? A last resort, Lucrezia BORGIR, pretty Poison. Leastways a madrigal? (Medieval Music.), Elevator music?
MURDER-MURDER, Murder my Sweet. The night is young, but blood will bleed. Alibis R a dozen-a-dime. And blood like TRUTH, OUT! OUT! OUT! How do we DIE, no whimper but a shout. SCREAMING our life's story into eternity! And the music plays. People swan across the dance floor daze. A heart's dagger here or there. Who's to say what kills a Soul?
HOW DO WE DIE? Restless yet, perhaps longing-still for the ones we have loved. Baptismal fonts & gravestones measure our daily-cafe-espressos!!
c.2023. Dave Delacroix.
No comments:
Post a Comment