Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "All our Yesterdays!"

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "All our Yesterdays."

...WE NEVER REMEMBER THE NAMES OF CRIME- SERIAL KILLER -VICTIMS, only their MURDERERS (Jack the Ripper? Wayne Gaisy, Green River Dude!), their Bios/photos/terrible childhoods (sic.) -FRONT PAGE! But not their Victims. Society does not honor them with a memorial, village green statue/Law Enforcement's failure? Nor name the MASSES, holocausts, victims of Terrorism. No-one is untouched, historically by this Global guilt, instigating or suffering from!

We never remember (U.S.A.) Presidential "ALSO-RAN" candidates, just the ELECTED scoundrels who play Poker with your Tax dollars. But on a personal level, we hardly ever cherish our OWN lifetime's successes, victories, failures in the 11th. hour clouded with (the Scottish Play) SINS or regrets?

We never get to wash away ("OUT, damned spot!!!") our devious ways & (perhaps?) as if GOD's (If there IS one) altruistic cloud, even on the INTERNET, adverse-somehow prompting to stymie inner-CONSCIENCE: "Please do not walk on my Lawn?" OR Devils in our heads: "Piss off! I'm in a meeting!", "Let's do Lunch! Next year!", or "Alles Verboten!"? As for "Overseas"? "BOMBS-AWAY IRAN!/Keep my gasoline CHEAP!...It ain't mah business!".

...And as we NEVER remember...what we DON'T want to remember (all our yesterdays) the names of those innocent folks who WE or our forefathers, we have directly/indirectly wronged, discriminated-against or EXSTERMINATED; who can BARE their identity, our sometimes ($$$!) wicked deeds, ON RECORD exposed in a future Poet's song, and as a postscript, a TOME, list upon lists of highlighted Victims Names! "I was just obeying ORDERS & singing Societies Song!" Will there ever be a time, a GENERATION likely to do no wrong?

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Limping Man."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Limping Man."

...HAVE U EVER BEEN TO XANADO, TIMBUCTOO, or Katmandu or Boulogne-Sur- la-Mer? Have U ever said: "Depend on me!", "I'll pay U back! (Honest!)" or, as faint heart never won fair maiden, omitted to say: "I love U!". (Whilst mandatory groveling, pretty much: (Fr.) "de rigeur!", (GER) "Ab befielh!", (ENG) "Get on ya frickin' knees!"). EVE (as in Adam's Rib) will, to THIS day always be Queen of the Apple Tree!

...Can't help feeling/thinking there's a Hound Dog aspect to this moment: "WOOF! -WOOF!" -Tongue panting? An Odyssey/CIRCE's pigs-wallowing situ.?

Yet, it's ONLY the Lonely who compose our fave songs for the CRIPPLES which, I guess, mostly, somehow, mostly who we R. And it's only the tongue-tied/frenzied-in-love's grasp, uncannily, defines this emotional labyrinth of paradox. Existentialists in search of The Maltese Falcon, the lost Biblical Ark of the Covenant, Ponce de Lyon's Fountain of Youth or that important letter - marked FRICKIN' URGENT! - gone awry at the Caen's (France) Post Office? A majesty in "Gob-smack-confoundation", the limping man abroad. Corpses-whittled bones litter civilizations roadsides!

...Incidentally, after viewing the Bayeau Tapestry have U ever queued up at the CAENS (France) Post Office? -A notorious edifice of government-functioning imbecility, your correspondence sure to be lost. DECEMBER-7th, 1941: "The JAPS R GONNA BOMB PEARL HARBOUR!!!" -no worries, Monsieur! We sent it PAR AVION/Airmail, but the Mail plane is in the SHOP? 

Have U ever - in your despair - WAILED at da MOON!?... I wouldn't worry too much. U R a JANITOR, right? Me too. So just limp along with your broom.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO!!!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO!!!"

...MAH "MOJO" AIN'T WORKING ANYMORE, my MOJO GAT-NO-MOJO anymore! Clear signs! -I ain't ejaculating any sincere-Literary concepts, no ERRECT-stalwart - thank God I'm British! - opiniated/reasonably non-racist/non-fascist a 'la diatribe Blogposts by the score? In fact, I'm just "penile" flagging (old age or just too much booze?), getting the SWEATS, drooling over non-overseas travel & past erotic assignations, hotel lobbies, strangers on a train or hitch-hiking w/guitar, belladonnas U R likely/supposed to meet? (Farewell cruel World!)

...It's always (can be) HARD to be a son - even worse for a Gal - to be the spawn of a Preacher-Man. U grow up having to sing all those dreary Psalms/Songs: "Onward Christian Soldiers, marching off to God knows where?" And no wonder ISLAMISTS think we R Kebabs to be culturally devoured, stiffing our buffet/fast food/kiosk servings "sans" (without) Lettice, tomato, Chilli-sprinkles, to think ALLAH gets to score a World Cup Soccer winning goal? (In ya DREAMS!!!)

...I wonder about DAT!...I wonder about that?...Then I resolved to have myself a BEER, a concoction the ancient Egyptians (Pre-Islam!) enjoyed & recorded (Hieroglyphics) to keep their MOJO on top of their MOJO, perhaps crazy in their OWN sometimes desperate Times? Persian Poet HAFIZ (A Shakespeare/Dante/Homer/perhaps a touch of Baudelaire?) writes/WARNS! ..."Do not play with a Tigers Cubs nor rob a young woman of her illusions!" But notably absent in his majestic works - probably getting loaded on Brewskies - he never addressed his MOJO NOT or "in full gear" working! And Whisky-in-the-Jaro! But what da heck! Hemmingway writes: "The Sun also Rises!" And my OWN  MOJO still got Tomorrow!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Kiss of Joy!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Kiss of Joy!"

...JUST A MELANCHOLY MOMENT, just a melancholy Girl. Just a melancholy ZIG-ZAG, the progress she made? Just a melancholy fortune she found in her Night; Melancholy dreams R all we-re about.

...She found her Mission in her passion that no-one can deny. A price above rubies, her ZEALOUSY, no limits, that girl will always reach for the sky!

Just a melancholy moment, a kiss U don't understand. A melancholy kiss of joy, her World in God's hands.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (For all girls/Ladies subject to Religious, Cults & barbaric Islamic suppression.)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Dolphins in the Sea."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Dolphins in the Sea."

...YOU KNOW WHEN U R INTER-NET ADICTED if U got "Inter-net CLAW" (Clenched fingers -hovering above L.T. keyboard, "jonesing" for another coffee; your urinal-sphincter hanging on tight when U desperately need to PISS!) Should I diagnose more? 

Post traumatic L.T. CLAW syndrome THERAPY is, predictably not freely available on Medicaid (USA) or National Health (LOL) in Britain. Unlike booze or smoking it's suggested U just get dead. Save the government a fortune. But in YOUR case? Just get Off-line! (U still gotta decade or 2 that the powers-that-BE can milk U.)

In ancient ROME the LADS (pre. L.T. Claw-syndrome) endured an a-like situs. such as holding onto their GLADIS (sword) instead the of their - under-TOGA - TEST-TACKLES only later to find it really didn't matter once LIONS were let loose with U into the Coliseum arena; Sword or BALLS, no therapy on hand: Issues! Issues! Issues! (Everybody ROARED!!!) Bright young things TEXTED one another on clay tablets?

And as for Roman poet OVID who satired Augustus Ceasar, everyone & his dog and all the powers that be? His "magnus-opus" METAMORPHOSIS, sensitively, I think touches upon TEST-TACKLES & quite insightful regarding the future curse of the Computer Lap-Top Claw! (He was duly exiled to the Black Sea.) Slightly more lenient that Moscow's Lubianka torture chamber or a U.S.A./C.I. A. "black bag OP." -U disappear? (Shortage of rampant Lions? Or ISLAM takeover of Western Culture/not enough Christians?)

OH! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! Don't pin ME down. Let's not argue. We R REMOTE correspondents; as REMOTE (as can be); & a zillion REMOTE jokes/all eyewitnesses, as controversial a 'la the Music-Fame racket: For example: Whose/which band NAME came first!? - The Hatfield & McCoys battle: "Naz Nomad & the Nightmares? GINNY & da Tonics? (These/name-copyrights are fought over to this day!) Worst of all? Who is going to own up for composing the Pop song: "The soggy biscuit of your Love."? (Certainly NOT Me. I was in Chicago! Honest!!!)

All Poets R doomed to dwell in, yes, that (Rimbaud) "Season in Hell", perhaps a self-sacrifice, from HAFIZ to JOHN DONNE who BOTH touched upon life's joys & uncertainty. Not with standing, the - your view not mine - the subject of sexuality, self-abuse, frantic masturbation as to then HIGHLIGHT the WHERE or WHEN WE BEGIN as opposed to that far off horizon (Bobby Darin singing:) "Somewhere across the Sea"...but in the END (Fred Neil singing:) "I've been searching for the Dolphins in the Sea." And as a postscript, sometimes whatever our troubles, within reason (The Beatles:) "let it be."...It's a WONDER we just don't thank this miracle of Life, its blessings: The dolphins in the sea.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BLING!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BLING!"

..."MAKE IT LOVE, MAKE IT MINE< MAKE IT BLING!!!"

...We ain't asking for the whole world but sometimes, we do. And IF the Shoe fits wotchagonnaDO-frickin' Boogaloo! So why not JAZZ into that tropic/Calypso night? Make it LOVE, make it - drink up & BE somebody? - make it blue, make it Yours! Sing out loud!

The ZENITH of our Youth; nothing's impossible. Songs, riotously/Mucho-bravado sung (those were the Days!) in urban taverns now demolished in the name of progress & who R we to complain; our placards, street protests, slogans, thinking, somehow, we'd made our mark, but now - clearly - betrayed: All revolutions R usurped by thieves/CROOKS/murderers - out on a Weekend - who, just like in the Music BIZ, "crowded-house" with Mafiosi in designer rags who talk like Hippies.

("Cool Mahn!"): As for the disillusioned, dejected, morally un-seated, the MARCH FOR CHANGE, the lonely, the Critical Mass or just psychologically LAME who now hobble into an un-certain tomorrow, names whitewashed from history, certainly that one hit chart wonder pop song that even rocket scientists cannot figure out just why anyone paid it much attention: "Baby, Amah your Baby!"?

...So; maybe make it LOVE. A lion-rampant on your record label. Perchance, in your present dark corner were-in U WAX: Make it mine, make it YOURS despite where (ahah!) no birds or Angel's sing. But redecorate (?). Make it BLING! Today, in the Here & NOW, it's safe to say, alas WE - as individuals - have little or no Voice!

Cash registers/Credit Cards/money transfers going BLING! BLING! BLING!

The Good News? There a 12 pack of Guinness in my refrigerator with your name on it!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Some of these Days/(Ger:) "Au München Tagen."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Some of these Days/ (Ger:) "Au München Tagen."

...SOME OF THESE DAYS when the Sun goes down? Some of these days when we're feeling Blue? Some of these days they come right up to U? -Some of these days belong to U.

Some of these days, try & catch a falling Star? Some of these days, no need to wonder just who we R? Some of these days, they come right up to U? Some of these days belong to U.

...Some of these days U look so scared? -Look into my eyes & I'll take U anywhere!...

SOME OF THESE DAYS when the Sun goes down, some of these days no need to wear a frown. Some of these days, the feeling comes right up to U? Some of these days belong to U: Some of these days belong to Me & U!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Lee-Shore of our Dreams."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Lee-Shore of our Dreams."

...THE FUTURE ALWAYS, SO THEY SAY looks brighter from the bottom of a Glass? -I beg to disagree! My own, personal REGRETS, ever needy would always desire ORDERING yet another (Dwinkies), make it a DOUBLE, U understand, to keep the Cold out? Even the Village Idiot, the Town Drunk is not bereft of some modicum of Logic? (Without VODKA, half of RUSSIA - no central heating - would be dead!?)

...Which is not easy to grasp for the "WOKE", Fascist NON-SMOKING-MADDING CROWD, AN(SY)NOMINOUS-ALCOHOLICS with their prescribed 13 STEPS, to swarth IN, their sense of aversion to re-affirm Societal "white bread's" great plan whilst some of we MISFITS Wheat or RYE, especially with our morning coffee look upon a new day, festive-a-la-mode!?

...Believe it or not...I have NOT exactly wandered like a Cloud nor ever second-guessed, stumbled, stuttered, tripped the Light Fandango to escape the commonplace cultural mire. But NOR can I accept/digest/drink the world's insipid SLUICE! Organized Religion/ Politicians/Tyrants will always see us as a threat? (We consider paying TAXES as optional!)

But: Acknowledged! Yes. The WORLD has to be a "give & take" survival. A RUGBY TRY to Love thy Neighbor, a respectful parity; if only EVERYONE, altruism- in - Spades! -would agree, adrift in Universal ORBITAL space devoid of GREED!

Yet like a Voyager a-sea: Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink? So thus, inevitably/predictably (?) surviving life's slings/arrows/prejudice, we find ourselves marooned (sadly LOL) upon an Island in the (Gulf?) stream; NOT the windward Isles but coming to rest upon the Lee-Shore, far from a Winter, WAR Cruise (?) Missiles or Classroom PEA SHOOTERS; so much U try to forget but rarely forgive...

... unlike so many, without, but for SOME (we happy few?) the Village Idiot, the Town drunk who somehow made it through? -now WITHIN... to bask upon the Lee-Shore of our fragile dreams.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/DAVE DELACROIX: "Une faun de la après Midi!" (The Faun in the Afternoon..)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Un faun de la après midi! /The Faun in the afternoon!"

...IT IS NOT YET UNCOVERED, a mental aberration/dislocation just how OUR BLUES comes Un-shoed: "Un Faun après le midi!"...A Faun in the Afternoon; a Nijinsky ballet, a Diaghilev-Ballet RUSS production! -To dance a mind into the moon? Bugs itching our skin? Aches & pains from within! A Cortisone cream, an Eau-de-Cologne, a Nose-gay of wishes! Love's broken-heart transplants no one can ever afford? And always an EGO, zigzagging of fortune's frustration!

It's not yet DISCOVERED, nor CAESARIAN-birth-protrusion, an "infective", a body of Soul who, sometimes, uncannily-adjectively becomes a temporary, the Ruler of the World? No Philosophers stone ever turned base metal into Gold! -though Fools & Funkers, ever duped, prevail? -This ROCK, PEBBLE, JEWEL, HOLY BOOK/QUORAN I show U - a donation/customary-expected will gets U 97 Virgins (willing OR un-willing) in the "afterlife & ensure your Immortal pathetic Soul? (Lucky if U get a Date/one-nightstand with an aging Camel?)

It's never EVER been deciphered/UN-explained why Histories LOSERS always get the blame within that SAGA of GREED in which, sadly all MEN feed, apoplectic, an "economy-size" illusive portrayed by a Nijinsky ballet; Une faun de la Midi. The faun in the afternoon. But when this THEATRE-curtain of LUNACY/lack of Cerebral-Development comes down & U rotting in the ground, Ballet-maestro but certainly a MURDERER, U will - in 3 generations time - unlikely to BE remembered. Perhaps a clay cup from which U supped; an exhibit in a museum?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Pardon my French.)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Brando on Brando!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "(Marlon) Brando on Brando!"

...(COMMERCIAL) BRAND NAMES on BRAND NAMES, maybe a LOGO, a Cadbury's music-Advertisement: ",,,Everyone's a Fruit & Nutcase" (Chocolate) "avec" Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" soundtrack where-with U instinctively understand like a Texas Longhorn steer, once burnt, never forgotten, your HIDE/BRAIN once branded; Edith Piaf's song: "No regrets", a song U'll never ever ask a D.J. to play? (Less U. R. a Masochist.) But ya gotta move ON!

Still. A life-long TATTOO, a brand on brand, an Expressionists/Cubist/IMPRESSIONIST imprint/design U. R. NOT supposed to understand nor question its validity: "It's SRICTLY FROM COMMERCIAL!" (Frank ZAPPA) So U. just GO OUT & BUY the Gig! (Probably by the Case!)...

Yet if only U knew of that Industrial/Commercial "Street-Fight!" it took for an "O.K. CORAL SHOOTOUT" for that BRAND to get - Media - elected? It's always that Scottish Play which should never be named (MACBETH!), perhaps a FORCE OF EVIL; Richard III?

...He WAS a Yorkshire Man after all; "Shine out fair Sun!?" Probably was good playing Tennis, certainly Cricket? And History? Always a FARCE! No-one since records when, for his Court he hired musicians/Bands to play Medieval Cover Tunes? Even the DEVIL, we suppose has some lightest moments? Murder by necessity but keep the Plebes happy?

A BRAND on BRAND, Media, daily assailed. Some IMAGO-profound, some GONE, the Mind's wind? Whence scared memories quickly secreted to an abandoned attic room; that ignored BIC Razor, BRUT After-shave (for Men who don't have to TRY SO HARD) or Shampoo, or Gieves & Hawkes (Saville Row) or the MEN'S WAREHOUSE, OFF da PEG; yet it all comes down to "U": BUY! BUY! BYE!.. Cash or Credit?

Marlon Brando, Movie: On da Waterfront! -"I could-a bin a Contender, Charlie!"...But regrets they get U No-where! And as for the rich, the poor, thieves, devils or saints, our last-deathbed mortal words are NOT for our loved ones but some Media JINGLE we have been too much exposed? -"SIGNAL (Toothpaste!) PROTECTING! SIGNAL-CLEANING! FIGHTING TOOTH DECAY BY BRUSHING EVERYDAY!"

The DEAD don't, contrary to public opinion DO NOT immediately expire but carry with them a Media Jukebox of MEDIA VERBAGE into eternity which we can only suppose...chuckle the bones of the Devils or Angels awaiting? And, lastly, with all sincerity; wise or fool? The Contender? U & Me! And like MARLON BRANDON, "On the Waterfront" nevertheless show OUR OWN TRUR GRIT, facing Eternity: Will - it's in our Nature! - come out Swinging!

(F.Y.I. It rapidly came to my attention on posting THIS (Brando on Brando) that the latest fashion of FOLKS EXPIRING/DYING uttering: "I could-a bin a Contender! But not addressed to Marlon Brando's "Charlie". Sometimes it was to their loved one, and in one case the Donkey a carried his commerce-load faithfully, workday by day. But mostly, some Gal his wife had never heard of!...The Ladies? Contenders-ALL! They always knew how to keep a Secret!!!)

...And I SALUTE everyone of them!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The D train!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The D train."

(après Bob Dylan lyric "up all night on the - New York City - D-train. )

"The D-Train."

...LOTTA STRESS IN THE WORLD, lotta nuttin' meaning nuttin' coming outta everyone's cowboy mouth! There's a lotta bravado, self-proclaiming, PATRIOTS, full of Twist & Shout!

 And there's a lotta ANXIETY, a lotta refugee-squeeze, a zillion of NEEDY who can't figure out: "Lend me a Dime if U please?"

Gotta a moment in CRISIS, could BE U or Me. Got nowhere to turn to. It's dark but it's clean. RICKY, don't U lose my Number! But when U need it U R never there! And these Pop songs, these "biscuits" only worthy, like a 1,000-yard stare.

Lotta STRESS just breathing on the "D" train every night. Will I see U tomorrow, like a bad penny, U just might...I ride the "D" train, downtown over to Coney Island. It's Winter, everything is closed. A shuttered Fun-fair. Just where do I go?

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix. (D.D. aficionados can listen to my Song: THIS TRAIN/Dave Delacroix on Utube/enjoy)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Into the POOL!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Into the POOL!"

(dedicato: Elizabeth Grant.)

"Into the Pool."

...WE DIVE, WE SWIM UNDERWATER, our charcoal silhouette/shadow in sunlight upon that swimming pool blue? -Breaststrokes, like out-sized Bullfrogs, occasionally treading water, like riding a bicycle. And presently - underwater, "bubble-silencio" - DEVOID of all memory for a minute or 2? I sometimes wonder if in this INSTANT karmic Amnesia, for Me, affects U too? 

-And with face-down, eyes wide open in this "splish-splash" choral; a childhood, a memory, a Kids first delight! A cheeky SMILE? Why is it we elect, like a lightning bolt in our minds, wreck less, we don't give a heck! To DIE INSIDE full knowing Safety is at hand at a hand reach away, or that kiss-"Goodnite!", that illusion, the promise of Tomorrow! ~ Does she/he love U 2? (Hand me dat towel, Honey? I gotta go to da Loo!)

And we dive into the Pool, we're nobody's fool, yet full knowing, we dive into the Pool, a sanctuary, an "Oubliette", a medieval castle's dungeon of TORTURE to brainwash captives. Yet WE now seek out our OWN Nothingness... As only a charcoal, a penciled enigma, for some moments, without anxiety, a frolic, our nano-shadow in the Sun, and for what it's worth: U KNOW where U can stick your views!  (GEE! I'm looking FWD to dat SWIM!!!)... BBQ & BREWSKIES! Y-all have a good time!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "The Lazy Eye!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Lazy Eye!"

...THERE'S SOMETHING - I WAS BORN WITH - in my EYE; a SPECK, a flaw that I can't get out/rectify. It worries my mind. A life-long handicap which sometimes U R apt to hide. Chain smoking & galoshes of beer & Scotch Whisky do their best to compensate. 

(My old MOM used to say: "All Artists R renown for having bad eyesight!?")

All MAN wears unspeakable shadows in the penury-pit of their unforgiving Souls. U should hear just HALF of these cretins, kneel-side by their mattress, nightly, begging a fictious Allah, Buda or GOD looking for redemption for enjoying brutal Internet Porn! -The pastimes of Priests, Imans, Rabbis & Politicians! Possibly, your favorite Uncle? (We tremble!!!).

My own story? I have "Canvasari" (an Arabian wagon train) across deserts & lands and as for the 7-SEAS, I faced mortality but survived, and in retrospect, sometimes, one wished one had died...but that speck in my EYE, my proscribed "Lazy Eye" would always urge me forward, despite this incumbent to somehow SEE.

...I witnessed, firsthand, POVERTY, the "badlands!", saw tragedy, degradation laid at my own front door & the HORROR of Man versus Man; I never ever VOTED. Like a Coward or a Refugee, I always voted with my feet?

There's SOMETHING in my EYE or in my mind. A legacy of something from the Past, something half buried, perhaps in my flawed Eye? ODYESSUS, post Trojan War just trying to get home? Such is a half blind man, no Smartphone, no G.P.S, adrift on an ocean's breeze. The Sun always rises. Maybe/It SHOULD be our GOD...Leastways, even thru my Lazy Eye, I perceive, it always arrives at dawn with a sense of glee!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Wish U were HERE!!!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Wish U were HERE!"

...LIVING WITHIN (?) THE ABSTRACT, "Artificial-Intelligence", the Internet, treading these "nouveau" VIA SACRE paving stones directing our "QUO VADIS!?" beyond Existentialism...I TEXT the Gal whose bed I share & SHE, between her voluminous E-Mails, head resting on the adjacent pillow, finds the time to texts back to me! There R no erotic mumbles, "sub-rosa".

Out there in Psyber-space she's quite forthcoming. Personal data, almost a Confessional! -The kind of info, decades ago, a school gal would only record in a secret Diary! Thoughts/Dreams/Fears/Wishes/BIO-details, that birthmark on her inner-left thigh? Makes U wonder: Feeling physically rejected/ I MURDER her/her face smashed in with her Smartphone/Detectives can identify her corpse/No.1 SUSPECT: Look no further! It's SO hard to be an ignored Sex Symbol! (Questions on a Postcard PURR-LEEZE!)

We GO on vacation of course - on HER Smartphone - never needing to get out of bed. SHE orders ALL our "needy stuff"; her female necessities, groceries, her acrophobic medicines & for Me, Scotch Whisky, Smokes & Beer! Pornhub? I can get on my own Laptop; so long has she don't cut off my WI-FI.

One time she LEFT ME! Buzzed off to Davos-Switzerland at the height of Summer to physically En-join with some seasonal-out-of-work Stud-SKI-Instructor... Strangely, I felt "A.I" devastated! I mean? Who ya gonna call? "SORRY! GHOST-BUSTERS R OUT OF THE OFFICE! PLEASE - at the tone - LEAVE A WHOOSITS!!!" (My dilemma marooned in an Internet Cloud? Yours would too! (MEIN GOTT!!!)

Anyhow, where was I?... A.W.O.L., she then flooded me (from Davos-Switzerland) with a myriad (?) of Texts/E-mails, re. Ski-Stud, how "rough Sex was not remotely comparable to the Comfort-Grooming she was acquainted with ON-LINE! She also mentioned there wasn't much SNOW (height of Summer) and a 'la, in Postcard communications of long decades ago omitted the classic postscript: "Wish U were here!"

Despite feeling/being temporarily abandoned I - texting back - commiserated yet couldn't resist likening her experience - outside Our Coupled REALITY - to Los Angeles, the LA BREA Tar Pits! -Where millennia of pre-historic creatures, great & small, sinking in that tar-pit mire, doomed/ensnared being eaten alive by predators who themselves suffer the same fate: "Would U get your teeth off my left foot!?" Somehow, yet to be produced, a latter-day Neo-Film Noir?

IMAGINE!!! Awesome. Awful. Macabre! Quicksand/TAR/mud with no escape! Critters, Mammals with NO Laptops, Smartphones - Reptile-Speak! - 911-999-Emergency! "I'm being eaten alive!?...And I have some ISSUES which I'll tell U about IF U get me out of HERE!"...But, alas, out THERE in psyber-space, UP there in the APP=CLOUD it's unlikely in the Global traffic no-one will remember - MINE, or for THAT matter - YOUR NAME/never mind your ISSUES!... And who can bear, yup! -wish U were here/were U ever? -To be forgotten: I guess we - in reality - were just never there.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix" "Love in the Afternoon."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Love in the Afternoon."

...WHEN OUR DICKS (Penis) fail - non-erect/nor gettin' a stiff-one - fail to rise to the occasion for your "charms", Vulva, a COUGAR, long past her youthful Sell-Date; when the thrift of - limited - imagination what tricks do YOU resort to: Working the streets on New York City's 7th Avenue. (Maybe 9th.?)

...When U R ELEVATED, high heel shoes, hair dye - gone Blonde? - fashionista! - rock U gently! And your Ovaries, like crumbling CEMENT refuse to give plenty; but then, U R UP against OLD GREY MEN whose personal hygiene passes for a Devil in an Armani (suit) with an open checkbook but rarely for YOU: It's no wonder U get to SWOON over memories of love in the afternoon.

Nothing ain't nothing 'cept something to lose. And a youthful tomorrow's chattel brand on your bloom. Yet a gift/bouquet (anonymous!) of flowers will pick up your groove like a memory of Love in the afternoon...A time when LOVE...perhaps it came too soon?

KEEP-ON your Cosmetics, keep on your Fire! Keep on your longing & all U desire: Throughout the night, hold yourself tight! Love's magic will still come, vivacious in Blue!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "When Victory comes!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "When Victory comes."

(dedicato: John Scace.)

"When Victory comes."

...WHEN VICTORY COMES U won't care if U know it. When Victory comes U'll be all wrapped up & warm. When VICTORY comes, a-sea or on land. When Victory comes it's likely someone hovering around, who wants to steal your Fire, a Usurper, just show Em da door!

When Victory comes its kind-a cute, the recognition. That illusion of grandeur, FAME, that elusive goal just - always - beyond your grasp? Like Ponce de Lyon in search of the Fountain of Youth; died in Florida, a Myriad of Gerontius Condos now bulldozed/cement his remains.

When Victory comes, erstwhile & sadly, U R saddled with regrets & all the bridges U burnt, your swansong epithet now wrapped around a linguini supper fork; there's Vino of course, there's a smile, music plays, camaraderie, old Loves text "Hello!" But when Victory comes, inside, no getting away from it: U feel quite raw.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Tumbleweed Moment!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Tumbleweed Moment!"

...A TUMBLEWEED MOMENT, A LONE SECOND on a clock, your mistress belches her orgasm & U atop rasping: "Yes! Yes! Yes!" -A genetic NEED till, as years go by, U become like English Poet, John Donne, more eloquent: "O MY AMERICA!!! MY NEWFOUND LAND!!!".

 - TWITTER involving Sex IS permissible, sometimes erotic but just don't run to Biblical/Political speeches or recitals from the Quran! The average Clitoris AND Penis can get quite numb! Yet after rigorous exercise-entangles the mind to observe the arithmetic & all those subjects U neglected in School? (If U play with it? It'll fall OFF!)

And the FURNACE of mortal ingestion, as a Play, a spermicide dancing the fandango, presently a precursor of future Man, a creativity, a flower UN-furling to progress & adopt the needs of Tomorrow?  But I wander & foolishly digress...

...A tumbleweed moment (absolute silencio!!!) that daggers into your dreams; natures retribution, Edvard Munch's painting, THE SCREAM! Once SEEN cannot be UN-seen like a Sharks bite, one limb of your mind now without a Prayer adrift in your imagination, tumble-weeding, a Sargasso Sea, leaving U wishing - U didn't get the POX - a "ticket gettin outta here!" or a Yellow Submarine!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix; "CIRCE!"

Our Man i9n Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "CIRCE!"

(Circe, a Greek Goddess/Witch (?) who would, at her bidding subjugate/transform Men into animals/pretty much bacon! Christian captive castaways, not a big problem as long as they were served up in dignity with eggs, toast & marmalade but ISLAMISTS had a problem with Circe's choice of Brunch!)

"CIRCE!"

...SHE WAS PERFECT, AN ARTIST, AFGHAN-WARDROBE, a swish of Time, a Trophy bride? -WHO, her many suitors say: "Here's a Gal who could rule the World." -She stole my heart - Lord KNOWS an easy rental & for a while I accepted this tenancy; but after a while Life's "Utilities" got wild: And I'm now renown, as the Man who GOT AWAY!

...SHEs got everything she NEEDS (Bob Dylan) & and she had an Afghan Hound (Doggie) so what was my emotional role supposed to be? And U gotta WONDER this day where would I be? I woz the LAD that got away & set himself free!

(Baritone-singing: The ANGELS SING, applause-resounding!) ... I now skip along. This ain't no DIRGE, no Bell Un-sounding for the Man who got away, just in time. These days, but hard fought! -No longer CIRCE in my mind.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Weeping Willow."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Weeping Willow."

(dedicato: Marc Pierson.)

"The Weeping Willow."

I TAUGHT THE WEEPING WILLOW how to sigh. I taught the weeping willow how to CRY, cry, cry! I taught my OWN SOUL how to "shimmie-shammie" at some Celtic Ceidlih (Scottish Highland Fest.) & to this day I cannot fathom why.

I never mastered the "Highland-Fling" (no Kilt!) nor yodeled, with the best in High Germany? I wandered as a CLOWN, I sang, town after town, but whenever I came across a willow tree: It wept, perhaps a broken heart? And I'd compose a song.

I never had much trouble with OAK, SILVER BIRCH or Cricket bats. They'd (Cricket) bowl at me & I'd just send 'Em right back?  (A Yorkshire Man!) It's always - perhaps? - when your brain is made of wood U never should ABIDE (Big Lebowski!) by GOD's plan? But I - indirectly - somehow had my own wood grain? (I josh with the idea of a Mortis & Tenor joint!?...but probably made of Balsa wood/light & un-caring/Don't cry for me Argentina!)

I taught the weeping willow how to sigh. I freely - handing out Kleenex tissues - I taught the weeping willow how to cry; but it never does much good. A "Mariachi/strolling minstrel" for street Ducats, singing how we live or die. Our roots should be in Heaven, but a willow tree beneath is where now I lie...upper branches, as always wrestle with the wind!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Cool of the Evening."

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Cool of the Evening"

(dedicato: Sarah B. Cabe.)

"Cool of the Evening!"

DON'T LET THE COOL of the EVENING pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. When U find yourself Home: Catfish on the bone! Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by.

Maybe I'll go down on Highway 61. Maybe I'll go down to Memphis (city) & have some fun. Keep your eyes on the prize because (my love) U R the reason why; maybe I'll go down on Highway 61.

Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. When U find yourself home & WE R all alone; don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GREAT EXPECTATIONS!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Great Expectations!"

...THAT COMPENDIUM OF CREATIVITY, whose WHEEL some R privileged to ride; is it SHEER LUCK or - born-with- Diamonds - R uncannily blessed with in their Souls, an inner Scripture, and as yet no-one can decipher nor, to this present day: a genetic source Un-found? (POP SONG: A Double Helix on your Mind!)

THIS Compendium of Creativity, that Virginity-Intacta which confounds/amazes/astonishes we non-cognoscente (?) leaving everyone else just a face in the crowd. By consolation however, anyone, absolutely everyone has a lifetime to pontificate? (At THIS particular Cultural/Intellectual SPEAKEASY: Just mention my name! It won't get U entry, but chuckles -all round!)

A Compendium-Compendium, wheels within wheels whilst (ahem!) we mere Mortals or fools, pirates, thieves, powerbrokers to check-book steal, the rest ignore/marvel or slave away in OUR NANO-ATLAS; great expectations, for good or ill, yet historically, on record, to get left behind for Prophets (sadly) & the majestic Artists, and for US, mostly lamented but rarely inspired: Ashes to Ashes, Funk to Funky! 

Great expectations! A Caravaggio sculpture or a FERMI equation (Answer: 4x4=4/No-brainer!) to yet understand or decipher! And who knows where the Time goes, that folly in our hands?

C. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A RUMBA for young Lovers."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A RUMBA for young lovers."

...LET'S KEEP IT SIMPLE, let's keep it FREE. Let's keep it ALL down, to U & Me. Let's keep it SHOTGUN: Happy-go-lee! Let's keep it Kosher, Just U & me.

Let's keep it CHA-CHA-CHA! Let's DO the Tango! Let's trip, the light fandango! Let's fall in love?

 Let's write a song? For we both know -Love doesn't last so long. Keep it simple, keep it free.

And when we RUMBA, stars on the dance floor, I want to mumble - with a LISP! - U R mine for ever more!...

Let's keep it simple, let's just adore, the time Love gives us forever more! That simple Love that we adore.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Room with a View!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Room with a View!"

...A ROOM WITH A VIEW, a Window on the World. A kiss before dying, your Life...in the fickle hands of a maverick Girl. A moment of madness, an impulse, a desire, a shift into CHAOS; wotchagonna-Do?

A walk on the Wild Side, a misstep or 2, broken hearts; broken promises, so who do U run to? -Loves executioner, what leaves/is left behind? The black & the scarlet, a sad souvenir.

A room with a view, a rhapsody tune, temptation/desire confounds all we know: True or False! A prescription/conscription of TIME THAT LAY at our feet; REGRETS-ECCONOMY SIZE: Our inevitable sad tomorrow...

...And that lonely room with a view, a window on the World 'cept nothing to see other than the scarlet & blue and/or what salvage washes up upon your shore. And the bloody awful, cheap-ass wine U feel U need to now swallow!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Happy! -Happy!)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The MISFITS!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Misfits!"

...BY THE GRACE OF GOD, we make every mistake/"faux-pas"/GOBSMACK-lunatic act which SCREAMS for a "tumbleweed" moment; every blunder in the Book! So many (now writing in PENCIL) we've run out of INK!

...But, by the grace of WHOOSITS, still half-assed throughout! -& all our bridges BURNT, long since, no chance of Retreat, behind us, a life-long trail, a commentary, a cemetery of tombstones - R.I.P. - here lies our past needs.

By, the grace of God, sometimes afoul of the Law, or street-ruffians, beaten to shreds but never murdered (?) we survive/prevail; considered the town drunk/village idiot/local whore we MISFITS -uncannily! - OUT-SING the lot!

And as - as VICTORS WILL - re-write/chronicle History in their own valiant/righteous reflection - Mirror-Mirror on the wall, just who is the GROOVIEST of them all? - WE, the dysfunctional, the Outsiders, the Misfits rarely get a mention (a footnote) perhaps confounded, certainly not to glorify, just confusion over how & why we lived so long...

By the grace of God, the "Yorick Blues", as future World Masters discover, dust-off our bones, mystified by our "purpose", "a 'la raison d'etre" (To BE?). Clearly Lives, apparently of no consequence, we MISFITS, who, nevertheless "in esse" by existing showed a bloody World how to safely bleed.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Ferryman."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Ferryman."

...DIZ SIDE of the DEPARTED where Angel's fear to tread. A NO-MAN'S land, a final WHOOSITS! & da Kids all out of school? THIS side of DEPARTED (I went to Sea & I lost mah Leg!!!); that Train arriving, ticket in your sweaty grasp: How do U face Eternity of DARKNESS!? -The brave, weeping or wailing, LAS VEGAS never gave me a chance!?

THIS side of DEPARTED, do U SCREAM-a Mandrake Root, whence plucked-mirrors your regrets/final hauntings as the fools, the reckless, the swindlers, & the KNAVES, the lost-love populace that retreat to grieve?... DIZZED side of the DEPARTED; a whiter shade of pale; coins placed upon your eyelids: The Ferryman, absolutely DEAF to your pleas... hoists his sails...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Whole Night Long!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Whole Night Long!" (Après 60s Cliff Richard's Song.)

(Pop/Rock-a-Billy!)

"The Whole Night Long!"

...MAH MOMMIE sez "NO!". My Daddy he says "NO!": Mommie sez/Daddy says "No!", but WE all say YEAH! (I said Yeah!): YEAH-YEAH! I say YEAH! -all night long!

(Guitar solo!)

My French Auntie, she says: "Non!" MEIN - Deucht - Uncle-Stadt, he sez "Nein!" -Auntie/Uncle sez "Nein-Nein-Nein! - NO Non-Non-Non-No!" But WE say YEAH! (Yeah-Yeah!) We say Yeah! (Yeah-Yeah!) We say YEAH all thru the whole night long.

(Guitar solo!)

My RABBI sez: "Shalom", my IMAN: "In sha Allah!"? My Bhudist/Evangelist Priest: "Deliver me another $100? And I say U "JU-JU" Men: GET GONE! & leave us Kids alone? -COZ WE SAY "YEAH!" -better off on our own!

(Guitar solo!)

...And we say "YEAH! (Yeah-Yeah!) We say YEAH! (Yeah-Yeah!) We say YEAH! (Yeah-Yeah!) just HEAR our "YEAH!!!-the whole night long.

(Guitar solo!)

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Walker!"

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "The Walker!"

...I GOT A WORLD on my Back consisting of a Sleeping Bag, a change of clothes, a (foodie) Curry-mix for cooking over a backwoods midnight pot fire.

I got a World on my Back; a bicycle, mostly I walk alongside. The Bike? It carries the "walkers" survival freight.

I got a World on my Back. I Pit-Stop at pubs, taverns, Bars/Cafes. I'm always - seemingly - eyed with suspicion. Ergo, I never leave a Tip.

I got a World on my Back, a Back that once knew a cesspit of executive/industrial fools. 

Now I got a World on my back, faraway, as light as a balloon. And I'm walking to da Moon!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Salami with Parmesan Cheese!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Salami with Parmesan Cheese!"

(Singing:) IT'S 4 IN THE MOURNING & once more the dawning; it'll keep, just like World Peace? And AS for your "dynamic", your WOKE ISSUES, your place, this GIG in which we sleep, got NO business sharing with U.

It's 4 in the morning, I got no emotion, Wall-to-Wall and AS for the heat of the night? My story BALLS, like a rolling stone and - yup! - there's NO end in sight.

(CHOIR SINGS:) Who woz dat MASKED-MAN, that phantom of Love's great desire? -Alas, NOBODY other than a fool...who wore your OWN worn-out shoes? (Why IS IT the answer always disappears!? -a bunch of COBBLERS?)

It's 4 in love's mourning yet the Sun also rises & dat first kiss to mirror, your heart's desire of the MAN U thought U'ed might BE; Salami with Parmesan cheese. A potpourri of Love's history. (CHA!-CHA!)

(Second THOUGHTS of course...R always on the Table!)

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: ""...Where have all the flowers gone?..."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where have all the flowers gone?"

(Song:) ...WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE -long time passing? Where have all the flowers gone long time ago? -Gone to Market to pave Paradise! -a mandrake root for everyone! -when will we ever learn; when will we ever learn.

Where have all the young Men gone, long time passing? Where have all our young Boys gone, long time ago? -Gone to join the CULT-ISLAM, full of HATE no peace on Earth; when will they ever learn, when will they ever...SHALLOM/SALAM-A-LICKUM! ever learn?

Mary-Mary how does your garden grow? Mother-Mary I witness your frowns in sorrow? Where have all the flowers gone, gone to the psycho-cult market where now evil grows.:

(Singing/old English Naval song:)"DEY GOT NO CEREBRAL DEVELOPMENT! No Cerebral WHOOSITS! And the Bible tells me so!!!"

...Where have all the flowers gone; long time passing? Where have all the flowers gone; long time ago? -Gone to Market to PAVE Paradise: When will we ever learn? When will we ever learn...?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DETOX!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DETOX!"

(Singing:) ...I AIN'T GOT DAT DAMN WHOOSITS anymore! THINK -the Blues without no shoes or your Mammas cookin without chilli? I ain't dat whoosits anymore.

I ain't got no BOOGALOO. I ain't got no Boogaloo. I pawned my guitar/w-Soul, got $29 (no alligator purse), seemed like a good deal at the time, bought me a bottle of "Nigh Train" (fortified wine) & slurped it, back & forth on the Staten Island ferry.

I ain't got no needles, NOR DOOZIES on my arm. She left me for some other suckers' wallet/charms. And I ain't got dat whooses anymore. Every cloud (LOL) has a silver whoosits!?...

And my hair going gray (wotchagonnaDO?) I still place a bet or 2, yesterday I bought a new pair of shoes bit I AIN'T got DEM WHOSSITS anymore.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Life on a Sweet-Roll!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Life on a Sweet Roll!"

(F.Y.I.: A "Sweet Roll" here in BELIZE is a family staple; a bread bun we love.)

"Life on a Sweet Roll."

...LIFE ON A SWEET ROLL, ham/cheese atop & a glass of Champagne & U can wear a High Hat?

Life on a Weekend, a date-night kiss in the dark; that fireworks' night ZING U never forget.

Life ON a Sweet Roll, Belizean-style: A samba, a boogie, a walk down the aisle?

Life in the making until it somehow disappears; life on a Sweet Roll: But never!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "MOJO-LAMENT!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Mojo-lament!"

...GOT MAH MOJO WORKING - these days? - mostly in the morning, the light of dawn. 

...I got a ZILLION excuses just why, just WHY I was so blind?

These days: NOW! I'm "auctioned-off!" in some rusted-Used Car lot; the CLASSIC I used to be.

...Still. Got my MOJO - in the morning! My afternoons, a highway cruise.

But wherever these days I'm driving my Motor still purrs as if running to U.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BRIGADOON!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BRIGADOON!"

...(I say:) EASY ON THE PARMESAN, it dries up the Pasta sauce; the Linguini will wave its own white flag. AND do NOT go with Habaneros Chilies into that Curry night? Your dinner guests, around your elegant table: A petrified Forest!!! (Poor charred bastards!)

CUCINA (Kitchen) "weekenders" abound including their USE & ABUSE of Garlic/Cilantro, menu extras like Seaweed or "Heart-ti-Choked" laced Colman's mustard which CAN, ahem, prove FATAL; husband-deaths by avaricious Spinsters - I'm sure - Sherlock Holmes uncovered many a Case? GASLIGHTING, in its Societal-infancy I fancy? An Escargot here & there?

And don't get me STARTED! -On Agatha Christie who DID try to be discreet for long-suffering, working class housewives, specifically, non-aristocrats, whose husbands, cantankerous, who, Mill slaves/Coal Miners, whined-abused, probably drunk who "brought home the BACON."

And LESS said 'bout DAT! Bacon, anyways, ignited their Colon Cancer! A Victorian-Age Pathologist's "misty-fiable-conclusion!" Islamist would consider it "Infidel" retribution. Their Widows/with Kids escaped back to the country!

Yet WHO!? (Reiner Maria RILKE, German Poet:) IN the Kitchen, maybe CONNECTED to the Order of the Angels (!?) The ORDER of the GOLDEN SPOON!!? Those white-winged/fluffy/Cats when I CITE THE BORGIAS, culinary-poisoning - de rigeur - or the TIP of a SWORD to dispose of HAMLET; a "Mission-Impossible" ("This TAPE will self-destruct in 30 seconds!), HISTORY'S ENCORE! A bleak silence.

I Just made some SOUP! It's call BRIGADOON! Named after a Scottish Legend, a mystic Country, that only comes, once of a Winter's Year. My SOUP! It's my own recipe. Anybody hungry?... A THOUSAND-YARD STARE & I'll know, Brigadoon; you'll be welcome there!

c.2026. dave delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "An Origami of the Mind!"

 Our Man in Europe/now, Belize/Dave Delacroix: "An Origami of the Mind!"

...DADDY WOULDN'T BUY ME A "BOW-WOW!" Daddy wouldn't buy me a Bow-Wow! I had a little CAT & I'm very fond of DAT but I'd rather have a Bow-wow-wow!...

...There ain't nothing like a DANE (the Dannish) nuttin in the World; when they banned/deported - that Trojan Horse - Islamic-Sharia-Law!

(Belize Grocery list:)  CAT FOOD - BZ$: 30. VODKA - BZ$: 30. WHISKY - BZ$: 120. Wheat bread - 2.50.

...It's a long way to Tipperary? IF Tipperary's still there & goodbye Piccadilly, farewell Leicester Square? Is Brenda still there...?

..."I am not in Love..." (Joan Armatrading song)..."but I'm open to persuasion?"/ "BEEF=POT-PIES!" ( Après Duran-Duran song, GIRLS-on-Film!), "I gotta get sum: Beef Pot Pies!"

...YUP! -DADDY WOULDN'T buy me a BOW-WOW, and as FOR that needy CAT, I'd rather have a BAT but WOTS I want's is a Bow-wow-wow!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Quite sober & drug-free incidentally.)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "To kill a Mocking-BROAD!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "To kill a Mocking-Broad!"

...TO KILL A MOCKING-BROAD, some KAREN; most, these days, recently changing their names to Eloise, Marie-Claude, Peggy-Sue or Cleopatra! (CUCKOO! - CUCKOO!) 

...It CAN be a tough Gig in a WOKED Town, now "gone respectable!" -The WHORES of yore, now on the Town Council, their COUGAR retro position got U/ WE - happy-go-lucky/ chain-smoking-Whisky galore-DUDES! (It's a CAT-FIGHT!) These Mocking-Broads got U in their frigid spinster sights!

...There's little to be said for these soon-to-be Old Crones, Islamic Imans/Bible thumping Baptists who, in their Youth, never got enough? And what's to SEE with a JHIJAB BRIDE who never exposed their legs? (POLICE LINE: "Nothing to see here folks." (Bride-burning.) "Keep walking! ..." Well sever her Clitoris, if she survives?"

...To kill a Mocking-Broad (Some KAREN!) out on her neighborhood Patrol; under duress with a compendium of "Issues": A Mind in a World - God's given Oyster! - consumed without a Clue.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "PISTOL PACKING MOMMA!"

 OUr Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Pistol Packing Momma!"

...I WASN'T SURE (REAL-WHISKY SURE!) ...how could I be? But dat Pistol bitch with the Colt.45, aimed right at ME? And, (pause) U know I had my ashtray-doubts like an un-paid Bar-tab, my half-hearted SOUL gave out some half-assed -I'm gonna faint-SHOUTS, I'm fainting, better than wailing "I'm a PATRIOT!" -the last refuge of a Scoundrel (Doctor Samuel Johnson.).

BURRT...That Pistol Packing MAMMA stole my HEART twix BRUNCH & SUPPER, Croutons in Salad were involved/French dressing/Romantically? A recipe for gastronomic disaster perhaps; it's un=proven but many a heart has been destroyed "avec" "LE BUFFET!" French Film dudes, Goddard, Chabrol, Truffaut actually make MOVIES bout this stuff!!! (They R mostly in B/W.)

And, universally agreed only FAILS (Freudian slip) only FOOLS fall in love but when U R looking down the MUZZLE (She put the Colt.45 in her left TIT pocket) whipped out an UZI U bet-cha-heart strings pounding; U'd better know what's-WHAT? I wasn't too sure (How could I be?) Surely this RACHEL wasn't gonna slay a DAVID? My appointment with GOLLIATH...future boogaloo.

There ain't "nuttin" sweeter than wine or the sadness U must absorb when your baby cries? There ain't no ALAMO, no last chance Casino or Saloon where we bury our Loves or hole our regrets, compact, in the saddlebags, horse-riding, the DEVIL won't find me, from Babylon to Samara! (HAFIZ!!!) It ALL comes back to haunt U or comes out in the Wash?

There ain't no ZEPHYR to cleanse your miscalculations, those embryonic, altruistic prods: QUO VADIS, God to Saint Whoosits: "Which WAY!?" -responding, "Manh, I got NO G.P.S.! " (No wonder he got crucified, upside down?) & all the LOVES, somehow, the Devil in Dixie or the songs U left behind? The Blues in everyone's ticket pocket, no Gold can ever compensate.

There ain't "nuttin" sweeter than a Sampan cruise all the way - in a matchbox - from faraway CATHAY (China). There's "nuttin" like a resurrection, a regret in your mind; that maelstrom, that whirlpool which leaves your Soul, cleansed/behind. And as for that PISTOL PACKING MOMMA? I guess she got fagged out, moved on to better times. People just, thank God...just do. (I'd loaded her "firepower" with blanks. S'why, whilst -ahah! "Sweating bullets" I still look good in Facebook "Selfies!"...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Trail of Tears."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Trail of Tears."

...BORN TO BE WILD, BORN TO RUN, born under a bad Sign, Born to BOOGIE, born to be Bad? That switchblade-cross mountain tracks, a MURDER on the lee that no-one discovers, intrinsic, a Pathologist's mystery?

 -AHA!!! That MINX who got away with it, my corpse (Heart!) still in a Montana kitchen Freezer? (In the Montana, Bitterroot Valley, she could 'a parked me under fire logs; critters & Moose, a backwoods weekend lunch.). Elementary! (Farewell cruel - Montana! - World; Love, obviously waits for Me in Monte-Carlo?) But THIS is not about US!

Born to be BOLD, yet at the first gallop, a Knights Lancelot-charge! -cut down & away: "HUZZAH! Huzzah! Huzzah!" -the charge of the Light Brigade; his LOBSTERED-armored carcass then ferried to a quieter place. (Without DREAMS we fail to EXIST!!!)

...Born to BE the JOUST-KING, the Maestro, the Prince, that wizard on LEAD GUITAR, for some, or how to weave that Tapestry on Missoula's Public Radio: The CATFISH JOHN MUSIC SHOW, to butterfly all we R? Yup! Born to be wild. Born under a bad Sign. That withered Soul, that WE: We refugees from Fate. Our ghost mists the Bitterroot Valley like the Nez-Pez Indians, on their trail of tears... who also travelled in Winter's snow this way so long ago.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Some of these days/Au munchen tagen!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Some of these days/Au munchen tagen."

(dedicato: Carol Marie Aniello.)

"Some of these days."

SOME OF THESE DAYS when the Sun goes down, some of these days -when you're feeling blue; some of these days -they come right up to U? Some of these days -belong to U.

Some of these days -try and catch a falling star? Some of these days -no need to question who we are? Some of these days -your magic comes right up to U; some of these days -belong to U.

...Some of these days U look so scared!? - look into my eyes: I'll take U anywhere!...

Some of these -when the Sun goes down, some of these days when we-re feeling blue? Some of these days, your magic fills the room? Some of these days -belong to Me & You; Some of these days -belong to U.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "All the Kings Horses..."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "All the Kings Horses..."

...TO TRAVEL IN YOUR MIND, no more worthy than the search for the Alchemist Stone, worth more than logistics, Roman turnstiles, or Industrial Turnpikes to bar imagination's progress? A'la Ponce de Lyon in search of El Dorado, or that illusive Fountain of Youth. (Transmute base metal into Gold!?)

To travel in your Mind, to advance, perhaps to FIND an honest mind, as in (Poet John Donne:) "No man is an Island!" Trouble IS! The Maldives, their land sinking, sea levels rising, courtesy of more powerful Nations POLLUTANT behavior, the Seychelles-tick-tock!) - consult PIRATES ANNONYMOUS.COM - 2026, Guilt or geographic obscurity? -There is alas, these days, nowhere to run & nowhere to hide, less U got a USA Green Card? (Good luck on that one!)

To travel in your mind, that SLUICE of Ideas...down a COAL SHUTE, black on black. It ROARS, un-leashed like the Lion's ROAR (More-so!) as in a Los Angeles multistory parking lot! An Urban echo U R unlikely to forget. Escape artists will always try to run U down: "Gimmie 5, I'll get U 10?"

To travel in your mind, that horizon beyond the sea WHENCE CONQUISTADORS, our ancestors, people like U & Me? -be-laid gentle brown skin folks for GOLD for our superficial needs. And all the Kings horses & all the Kings men...will never put this GIG, your gig... back together again.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BARBIE-Q!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "BARBIE-Q!" (Après SUZI-Q, 1960s song by Creedence Clearwater Revival.)

(Dedicato: Ken & Tammy)

"BARBI-Q!"

...HEY BARBIE-Q! U lookin' so fine. Hey Barbie-Q, sun tanned or medium-rare? Oh Barbie-Q, nudie-NU? Nudie blue? (I'm glad you're mine!)

Hey Barbie-Q! We gotta jive with Wine. Hey Barbie-Q? -flip flops/bell bottoms! Fashionista-style! Hey Barbie-Q, flip that sausage in your mind.

Hey Barbie-Q! A sizzle on the Grill. Hey Barbie-Q; a thrill is what U call it! (Hoop-la, beach-baby-bingo, hoop-la! Hoop-la!) Let the good times roll. Hey Barbie-Q - Signs & Wonders! - so glad you-re mine!

UNDERLAY!-UNDERLAY!-ARIBA!-ARIBA!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Blog supporters - quite FREE - can log on to this Blog "as FOLLOWERS" for immediate updates/My FACEBOOK page - family name - is David Michael OXLEY where U can observe my other interests/if I DIED & various "WOT LARKS!!!. Cheers.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Linguini."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/This my PICASSO BLUE PERIOD: "Linguini!"

...WE GOT LENTILS, MUNG, DALH, Basmati rice & all the spices that cook so nice, but as for my new LADY, we're always chowing down on LINGUINI (tomato sauce/parmesan) Linguini.

...She's not Latino, nor from a Viking Fjord, she's BLONDE (Non-Italiano!) from some mystic foreign shore. She's house-proud, definitely FERTILE, wears lingerie at night whilst singing operatic arias...

...but for LUNCH...it's always Linguini (avec Chianti vino)

She's the ONLY WOMAN I ever loved but I don't know what to do? -BABEE can U change your CULINARY shoes; please God, no more Linguini!!!

Hey Guys! Has this ever happened to YOU?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Wichita Linesman!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Wichita Linesman."

(dedicato: REX MOSER/Denver's Guitar-finest/A Lyric for YOUR interpretation BRO!)

...YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO LEAVE ME, got no peace of mind. I was gonna, get around to it in my own time? U didn't have to betray me in my 11th hour. I was busy being "all fricked-up"; my darkest hour.

U didn't have to maroon me, lord knows how fragile we R, and now, aged, dementia we cannot hide the Sins we have sown? U didn't have to dump me, my heart's desire. I wasn't worthy of U, just a love affair on the wire.

U didn't have to leave me for some - ever-ready - Prick on call? Disapointments all-round for...the Wichita Linesman. I still hear U through the wire.

I still hear U through the wire!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

OURE MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Pasta, Cous-Cous & Feta Cheese!"

 OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Pasta, Cous-cous & Feta Cheese!"

...DO WE LIMBO - in bed - IN THE MORNING, do we JAMBO in the afternoon? Do we MAMBO in the evening, do we sing the BLUES in the twilight hour? The SPECTER of "disclosure", more succinct, that ILLUSION of "closure" - the MEDIA arrogantly propounds! 

A tragedy, a LOSS, that T.V. Media wallpaper-job? But outside of T.V. NEWS Studios; meaningless for wounded survivors never mind TERRORIST casualties who no longer have a voice. DO WE, yes "WE", apoplectic, we bystanders; do we JAMBAI-living Ghosts, GO-VOODOO in the night to UN-frighten our OWN Kids, Re, The Russian Bear, MISSILES over Ukraine,

...serving up United Nations rescue packages of Pasta, Cous-Cous & feta cheese? Alas, NO International/Political WILL, no PIED PIPER of Hamelin to extract both sides KIDS to extinguish their fathers in-bred HATE, as historically, the Middle East: These classic Hatfields & McCoys, Jews, Arabs, Lebanon, Israel, Palestine, a theatre of HATE where night on night the Sirens roam...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: ""Alas, Poor Yorrick!"

 Our Man in Europe/now in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Alas, poor Yorick!" (Après William Shakespeare.)

...CAN ANYBODY LEND ME $20? I got no money & I desperately NEED a serious drink! Can anyone give me an Interstate Highway RIDE; I'm hitchhiking from N.Y.C to L.A; gotta get to the other side? Better U carry a Banjo, Guitar or SHOTGUN in your Violin case. Sub-cultural predators, faggots & Rednecks R always on the prowl? COPS, Federales, sometimes U get lucky/a few good Officers out there but better keep your (Barney Fifes?) fingers crossed. (Piped T.V. laughter!)

 Can anyone DIG me outta this HOLE I'm IN; U-betcha! This hole, the grave? I got here by my own sad-assed self-winding? Does anyone know - no tricks! - the road to EL DORADO...I couldn't find it by myself. Stand-up Comedy don't pay SHIT less Hollywood likes U or a faggot media Prince likes your Ass? These days, (Noel Coward song:) "Don't put your daughters on the Stage Mrs. Worthington!" Even established Film Starlets R under siege!? (Weinstein/Epstein!) Tip of a rancid iceberg.

...I have, nevertheless, despite Hollywood's "slings & arrows" accrued some fame, albeit MORE notoriety, (chain-smoking & getting drunk R no longer fashionable) & having been a Minstrel, played the Court-Jester, a Courtly FOOL. My name is YORICK & "post-mortem", too late for ME but a Prince of Denmark immortalized my name as I had dwarf-sat on his childhood shoulders in Castle/Palace/ELSINORE, & later, his discovery, of my skull & bones inspired/published my historic fame; yet a loan of $20 (cheap Danish Prince fricker!!!) came clearly too late!

Can anyone, traveler who pass on by, donate a cheap-ass Wreath, a WESTERN-UNION remittance or a Bank Check which'll NOT BOUNCE/it don't matter anymore? Lend me $20? I GOT/had no ducats, even back in my Day: A Fool of FOOLS & now my legacy - bad jokes excusing! - now a King of Fools in a Fools abandoned grave. A YORICK who, interned in some backwoods: CANOGA PARK, a scant mile away, though I never felt lonely, not far from the company of where the Stars & Starlets in Hollywood now lay.

(SINGING, Ronnie & the Ronettes:) "...BE MAH, BE MAH BABY, BE MAH BABEE NOW-OW!!!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our MAN in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Robbing (Saint) PETER to PAY (Saint) PAUL!...

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Robbing Peter to pay Paul! /Mammas Bank Account!"

...ROBBING (Saint) PETER TO PAY (Saint) PAUL, a fiscal situation in everyone's life, later to be buried in your Soul? For WHO has not "alibied" a guilty friend or shuffled a TAROT card to exact, prediction-anonymous for no good end? And when the VINO seeps into your regret, non-confession/Societal modesty? Poverty's song creeps into our Night. Yet U aided a friend in their plight?

Robbing BUDDA to pay MOHAMED, a CULT-TRICKSTER like a Libertine, in FARO (Card sharp!) I too have indeed "palmed" a card or 2 to make up your loss, yet in love still I knew I was losing U? And though I have no pity for these - cerebral-deficient/brain-washed - these Islamic zealots, their evil IMANS, who promise a reward of 97 Virgins in heaven for murdering innocent folks to undertake a suicide mission? What retardation? What inner stuck-GLUE!?

Robbing Peter to pay Paul, those WW2 British housewives, forever in a grocery queue, Penny-wise conjuring, to make ends meet to make sure the Kids got fed & a coal miner/steel factory husband dirtied/tired comes home for his dinner & doesn't bawl U out? Robbing Peter to pay Paul is sometimes the only way the lady of the house can make ends meet! Maybe on a Sunday, the village Dance, her best dress, she makes it her best!

And AS NEEDS-MUST, the wolves at the door, just WHO -these days- Robin Hoods no longer steal from the rich and share with the poor? -Leastways, no-one I know! (2026!); absolute CANNIBALISM: The Rich R plundering the Rich! -"HOOP-LA!" -Trump, Infantino, Putin, Epstein-Morte! (May he rot in Hell!) Republicans, UK Tory Grandees? U can hang the lot!!!

Robbing Peter to pay Paul, "THE BOYS BY THE LAKE", the DISCIPLES, location: Sea of Galilee, sometime to be crucified, those "fishers of Men"/Mary Magadelene excluded: "Do WE HAVE 2 play with GIRLS!? -probably cheating each other on the Dead Sea shoreline, gambling with fish when they lost all their Shekels all except Judas -HE was playing for a Wall Street Silver currency gains? Even today, 2026, its value has remained suspiciously low?

Robbing (Saint) Peter to pay (Saint) Paul! Sometimes NEEDS-MUST, Death to dust on Life's - sometimes - laborious/unglamourous treadmill for the long, the short & the tall. Not to forget Kathryn Forbes' classic short story: "Mamma's Bank Account." It didn't exist of course...but it made the Kids feel secure.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Robbing (Saint) PETER to pay (Saint) Paul

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Departed!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Departed!"

...WE ARE NOT DEPARTED when we R gone. Someone, somewhere - Over the Rainbow? - Maybe a Mass, a Kaddish, a loved one will sing your Song? U. R. never Departed, not quite, when U. R. gone.

WE R. not departed, not un-forgotten though SOME would wish it so; a dime-a-dozen, inevitably wash up on Hades' bleak shore. The Usual/Historical suspects: Tamburlaine, Napoleon, Hitler or Stalin. And why not Julius Caesar who executed the holocaust of Gaul/France?

We R not Departed anymore. Buried, cremated, and those glittering prizes we leave behind to echo our fledgling zeal? Our Soldiers (less we forget), genius composers, POETS! Or a famed romance & "all our yesterdays" yet still to be remembered! Generations/ERA'S confounded, sometimes prematurely to dusty death?

Yet to be personally FORGOTTEN, we mere mortals, perhaps the saddest blow!

We R. not departed though our gravestone, family-crypt, Sepulcher, Mausoleum, erased by history or fallen into disrepair; an ancient Greek Lyre accompanying a Trojan War lyric, or a Mead-fueled Viking Saga, in an ill-wind can still to be heard...for someone, a loved one, somewhere out there!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "SILENCE-SILENCIO!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Silence-Silencio!"

...SILENCE IS GOLDEN, Silence is LONELY. The sound of Silence sometimes beats like a drum! Silence un-ravels the chaotic noise of the madding crowd like a lightning bolt or the discharge of a gun?

...There's no denying the joy of societies' "hullabaloo" or the "Whisky in the JAR-O!" And kisses-sweet -Well met, my friend! - yet (A'la recherche du temps perdu.) we reminisce, but passion-illusive (?) disappears like the morning's dew?

Silence/SILENCIO! -Maybe under a Harvest or a blood-red full Moon; like a dagger-drawn, a GUILLOTINE, a mystic blackmailer to haunt wherever U may roam...in that Silence, our inner Silence, that specter, genetic wishbone

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GO-WHISTLE!/A COVID BLUE!

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GO-Whistle!/A Covid Blue."

(A Song!)

...GO-WHISTLE! Go WHISTLE! Go whistle like the wind! Go take your Trade to someplace else. GO=Whistle! I don't need U in my World.

 Go Sampan, or set sail in a matchbox all the way to China, get an extended VISA into yourself? A GREEN CARD? Experience? Maybe it should be black & blue? No-one can ever know what it took to be U? There R always memories which we cannot share; a COVID-Blue?

Go-whistle! Go whistle! Go whistle in the wind...and maybe U TOO will (John Donne/Elizabethan Poet:), "will find a WAY to advance an honest mind."

Go-whistle! Go to blazes, baby. Go whistle like the wind. Go take your trade to someplace else. Go-whistle! We don't need U in our world.

v.2026/Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Half past Twilight Zone."

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Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Walk in the park."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Walk in the Park."

...THE LONELINESS, absolute lonesomeness of a Girl walking out with her Dog. DOG? He doesn't know nothing, the GAL, she knows too much.

...A compound, a compendium of Hope/Regrets; that Lifestyle which soldiers into a Spring of ECHOES; copper-bottomed, but never to leave that Gal alone.

The loneliness of a Gal with a Dog. No cries. No tears. No madly-barking. No welp, no sigh. Just a misty morning, sometime U might, see? A young lady, dog on a leash. Walking in the park.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belixe/Dave Delacroix: "SPLISH-SPLASH!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "SPLISH-SPLASH!" (I was taking a bath!)

,,,DO NOT GO "SPLISH-SPLASH" into your swimming pool, IF U HAVE ONE, into this Good Night? (Sinister music orchestration!) Maybe a baby Crocodile ducked in overnight? Or a Literary Critic? (So best call the Pool Guy.) VACUUM! VACUUM! VACUUM!

Do not go BUY a Tavern's "Ragazzi's" their last rounds, supposing U have the Ducats, at the 11th hour, then opt to stagger home alone? Wanna be a Target!? Or recite, arms flailing, "DAS CAPITAL", Karl Marx? Another reason to get drunkard/Mugged. ISLAMIC THUGS R everywhere; bored too of grooming/ raping our Christian Children?

Do not promise "eternal love" to some GAL U cannot finance nor sustain (HAFIZ, PERSIAN POET/Pre-ISLAM fanatics, he writes:) "Do not play with a Tiger's Cubs nor rob a Woman of her illusions!" (A cone of Ice Cream on a hot day IS an option.) U don't need an Iman's call to know which way the wind blows? C'Mon! Highland BAGPIPERS!!! Blow their Iman-Minarets hollering's away!!!

Do not (Edvard Munch Painter:) SCREAM for a role in a Hollyweird B-Movie: "Faster-Pussycat-Run!" (Sans-Muslim-Fashion-HIJABS!) or to try out as a TRAFFIC COP in MUMBAI; trust me. U'll get run down without a Hindu thought? (A gridlock of sacred cows or tuskless ELEPHANTS is a reprieve?) Luckily, DECESASED, U don't get cited with a traffic violation. Or in Shah-Allah!

Do not worry 'bout your destiny, DEATH'S RIDER in Babylon - U SAW! - he will still greet U in Samara! There's no shirking your Tomorrow. Biblically, Death rides a Pale horse or an M1A1 TANK! Perhaps, "in esse", and I too burnt all my bridges, but my bridges - no retreat! - burnt for me? And across the river, what now does Death itself need? A coin for the Ferryman?

Do not go gently - SPLISH-SPLASH! - into your "own personal Jesus/your own personal SWIMMING POOL"...if U have one, a NO-GO into your "Goodnight"? ... Another Universe awaits which, yet we STILL cannot comprehend. An origami of the mind: Icons, Scriptures, chants to fill empty Souls; the Argonauts in search of a Golden Fleece?

 97 Virgins, the last I heard was the reward for Islam Suicide bombers under 18? ...In MY Christian/West European culture finding JUST ONE (Virgin?) was considered "pretty groovy" & U got to stalk away in your LEVIS & - goddammit! - write a Song!!!

 Popular songs, a.k.a.: BISCUITS: "Stairway to Heaven", "I wanna hold your hand" which of late we still knaw on till the big sleep. And of late, MEGA-TRON, Taylor Swift, aping, projecting feeling a 'la Minerva (Goddess of Poetry) like a whiter shade of pale. The Dumbing down, not only of America, Western Europe, but dumbing down divides us all; just WHO (Rainer Maria Rilke/German Poet writes:) "Who in the order of ANGELS will save us?"

But I digress: (Whilst listening to Barry Manilowe's pop song: "Her name was Lola. She was a showgirl, at the hottest spot north of Havana, at the COCA"...ad-nauseum)

MEANWHILE:  SPLISH-SPLASH, (I was taking a bath!) perhaps I thought I was Errol Flynn, cutting a swashbuckling movie dash, once upon a time when I dived - SPLISH-SPLASHED - into that Swimming Pool... There HAD to be FUN, somehow, someplace, with SOMEONE; the ripples in the swimming pool, now predictably ERASED! But NO REGRETS - well, SOME! but rest assured, I like U... will someday be replaced by voices, like ourselves who'll - Splish-Splash! - also sing to the moon.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Give Me 5!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Gimmie 5!!!" (Après classic song: "Bie Mir Bist du Schoen/My Dear Mister Shane.)

"GIVE ME 5!!!"

Gimmie-5, sweetheart. Gimmie 5 to START for whad-I-got to say to U; please gimmie 5!!!

Gimmie-5, my Love, I woz late for our Date. A friend (long lost) came, by surprise, a tumbleweed moment into town?

Gimmie-5 my dove? She didn't mean anything to me? But the apple never falls far from that damned biblical-EDEN apple tree?

...And it's really not my name (Or Mr. & Mrs. Smith) on that MOTEL register; gimmie-5 & I'll explain!

Gimmie-5! (Sweetheart) Gimmie-5 YOUR HEART! A yesterday's affair: Gimmie-5 & I'll explain!

(Singing:) ...I say now Bela-Bela, U know I love U. There AIN'T NUTTIN I wouldn't-DO-for YA!... 

Alas! (Pant-pant!) The night is long that never finds the day, but it's WITH U I want to stay? Gimmie-5!

 Gimmie-5 just to start? Whad-a-ya got to say? Gimmie-5! I KNOW that I am not worthy; but if U please? Just give me FIVE!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (WE R always guilty as Sin!)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ICE WALL!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ICE WALL!"

...YOU R ONLY LONESOME WHEN U DIE, but mostly, absolutely LONELY when U R alive. Funny how that works? Ask anyone. But not a Soul confesses. (Beatles song: All the lonely people.)

U, actually, R quite FRIGID; new clothes, new auto, new-whatever, dancing gaily, pretending TO BE for the sake of Societies' needs? (A Life-survival-necessities of: WOTCHAGONNA-DO!?) Saturday Night & Sunday Morning?

...There IS no TO BE or NOT to "whoosits" (Hamlet's problem.). We wear costumes, talk-hipster/always one eye on the $$$! & like thieves we rob our own Souls. It's the easy way out. Better THAT than face the ICE WALL of nothingness, the Universe.

(Singing:) Mary-Mary, quite contrary. How does your garden grow? -With Silver bells & cockle shells, despite being absolutely STONED, somehow all in a row! Whilst she's getting KNOCKED UP by the assistant Gardner: Poetry in motion!

Still. For the rest of us? It's ONLY lonesome when U die. It's only lonesome when U expire "sans" a Cellphone. No digital communication & that inner terror of feeling alone. Ask anyone! And good luck, if U have a real friend...beyond the Ice Wall...who'll listen to your Confession!

(Gotta feeling, surgically connected to your "handy" U might be put "on HOLD!"/Musak-playing...)

The ICE WALL!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/a.k.a. David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "TEST-TACKLES!!!"

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/a.k.a David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "TEST-TACKLES!"

(dedicato: Brian Pavlic.)

"Test-Tackles!"

...DON'T FRY BACON in the NUDIE or U might gonna catch a SPARK nor forget to wear an L.A.P.D. (L.A. Cops) Velcro-Bullet Proof vest, specifically, wrapped around - ham-strung - your TEST-TACKLES!

DON'T - first Date? - kiss her on the mouth. That last second/the PIMPLE on her lips/U noticed before closing your eyes; just what was her last date, now sucking U way down South?

...But it's only a Samba, a LIMBO-MAMMA. U take your chances, some romantico G.P.S. Remember what your Mommie said: "Better a cup of Cocoa & a good night's sleep, better that than a night on the town!"?

(No-one will EVER learn of course:) 

Don't fry Bacon in the Nudie. Your TEST-TACKLES, pretty much is all ya got!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Pontius Pilot."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Pontius Pilot." 

(Après the 1960s PROCOL HAREM hit song, "A whiter shade of pale".)

"Pontius Pilot."

...WE SKIPPED/TRIPPED (jumped out a 3rd storey window whilst on LSD/Acid?) the light fandango, did the "POGO/The TOASTER" across the floor? I was feeling kind of homesick. The crowd roared out: "Migrants go home!" (This was in Manchester/1970s/I was from Sheffield.) I was ONE of 16 Vestal-Virgins -wearing a Chicken's "Parsons Nose". And it's SO HARD, despite everything, to be a Sex Symbol as U & I both know.

...But that's ALL IT WAAASSS, a play on words, a propaganda short & sweet. Nobody ever gets to WIN in Love or that Hollyweird sordid grasp for Fame when U try to make your Name? And FAME sea-sick don't get U a PASS; fake death? That's just lame. (The Lombardo's divorce still racking up the credits!)

She said there IS no Reason, on Facebook where we met? Neighbors/Internet Door-to-door & I soon realized what an Un-holy bore she was? So, I DID a "Pontius Pilot", I'm not sure which airline I flew for & executed my sinful ablutions & sent them down the LOO?... Sometime even an IDIOT has to do what he has to do?

But that's ALL IT WAASSS! - The Play's, the thing? A match to burn, the Conscience of a King? A voyage-Romance, passing ships in the night, a passion play, a propaganda, a story, short & sweet!

...NOBODY in "Hollyweird" ever saw their ASS for Ducats. Too busy hunting down their own immortality. That friendless, ruthless destiny, ignorant; already got one foot in the grave! And now OLDER, wiser, I now dance, skip-trip/DO DAH TOASTER! -across some parquet floor. And yes, it's SO hard to be a Sex Symbol as U & I both know...

...This OBSESSION with washing my HANDS however is becoming "Hollyweird"! -I may need to seek out an equally crazy Therapist!!!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "LUCILLE!!!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "LUCILLE!"

...PAPPA GOT A BRAND-NEW razor. Pappa got a brand-new GIG. But the tufts of his greying beard, last seen, he gotta a SMILE just like in his YOUTH.

Pappa got a brand-new BAG, goes by the name of "BANJO!". He plays it night & day. Even the neighbors R complaining! My younger siblings, like "Mummers" (silent actors) in a play? Wondring-bout their tomorrow! Destiny's illusive face?

Pappa got a new brown bag. Pappa got a new LIFE! (he) Buzzed off to Chicago, became a hipster MUSIC-MAN, & we never got wind of him since, till - in the PRESS - he had a hit song: "Lucille!" (My mother's name...)

Pappa got a brand-new Razor. Pappa got a brand-new GIG; where-as I now see my aging Momma, slaving in our local South Arkansas brick laundry building, fading, like our clothes & rags she washes daily, day by day to keep on having to think.

I hear it's the SAME via the town's Library-public Internet service IN ENGLAND, Europe, faraway? A family abandoned for some fickle "Rock & Roll" fame? A Man with a plan, a Guitar, THUNDERBIRD auto and a pocket comb?

But "in ONUS" just who stays behind? Who to stand, Sons & Daughters, by their planted seed? Not to mention who KEEPS your town, your Village-green; who sweeps the Cities SEWERS! - a Song of sacrifice? - Certainly not the Man who wrote "Lucille!".

Pappa got a brand-new Razor. Pappa got a brand-new Bag. Pappa got everything he needs except the Kids he left behind & a noble LADY, thrown into No-Man's Land, yet a haunting Conscience; but what good is THAT for a sweet Gal named "Lucille."

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix; "The Ancient Mariner."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Ancient Mariner,"

...MAYBE IT WAS YOUTH'S "Agusto!" (passion)? Maybe it was our D.N.A. that launched us into this WILD WORLD, but, latter days, "Davy Jones Locker" a-chained to our backs? I don't much talk to Strangers anymore.

And maybe it's the ZODIAC, solar planets out of sync? An Astrolabe/Navigation miscalculation, too much Rum! But, probably, in MY case, failed love affairs in Port-O-Prince or Bristol fashion: S-why I don't much talk to Strangers anymore. (Especially women from Swansea!)

ONCE! A Brother above all brothers! I was valiant & sailed the seven seas. But now marooned on the lee shore in some foreign land where Strangers I don't heart-felt, welcome. What mortal castaway can absorb distance eternal? Robinson Crueso?

Like Ulysses at the end of Days; just who knows: TIME! That God of Gods! Implacable! Cares NOT for who or what was. And as for Strangers, I, being marooned, no longer hang out in portside bars & taverns. Bordellos, a distant memory. But I miss the chorus of a "Sea Shanty!"

...Now? My fingernails seem always dirty. I don't now shave but once a week. Every time I - these futuristic days - read a sincere Internet Post I crack up in laughter & wish U all calm seas?

And water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink/ ocean-current chased by metaphors: "Think!", "Gone down the SINK!" Or "the DEVIL'S DRAM/last whisky in the barrel!" A whirlpool of insight: John Donne/Poet: to search/advance an honest mind not to CAP with The Bard's, To BE or not to Be? - That Sea of Seas.

...I gotta Song IF THERE IS a Song. It takes a lifetime, rudderless, to know what IS COOL or what is downright wrong...Less said, yet without melancholy, I don't much talk to Strangers, my old Shipmates, anymore... This affidavit, signed by my own hand, who never ever received "the Black Spot", DAVY, an ancient mariner.

c.2026.Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Whistler!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Whistler!"

...I PAINTED - WATERCOLOURS - MY SHADOW, my silhouette, an optical imago on the turquoise/blued bed of my swimming pool, octagonal sunlight reflections & that my subterranean EYES, wide open, I saw there... two people, the previous evening, a suicide pact/the Pool Guy, late for his pool cleaning Gig & I (my morning swim) dove in anyway, not being of a superstitious or nervous disposition. ...Now the DEAD have been removed. COPS, Ambulances, flashing light stuff. I never live, co-habit or SWIM with Corpses; leastways in my own Swimming Pool? Would YOU? -No need to respond.

Too little, too late, a 'la that DAZZLE, an epiphany to those close at hand? My other Chateaux-Pelican Guest Villa guests scattered like Baptists at a non-alcoholic wake, those of ISLAMIC faith, tired of bouncing their forehead - 5 times a day/pointing to MECCA - wherever the frick THAT is! -on the Villa's gravel forecourt did the same thing"? I HAVE heard some Hotel horror stories, B&B nightmares but TWO STIFFS in the swimming pool - Guinness record? - gotta award a blue ribbon, YA THINK?

...Like a WHISTLER in the wind, a Song now sung, now gone with the wind & every morning U brush your teeth and yes, U need to shave.

I painted my shadow, my silhouette, an optical imago on the turquoise/blued bed of my swimming pool; octagonal-sunlight reflections dance before my eyes as I saw before me, EYES WIDE OPEN, I saw my own self there!

I still paint in Watercolors & whistle whilst I work. But close friends have observed my paintings' have a tint of grey.

c.2o26, Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Queen of Belize!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Queen of Belize."

...WHEN YOUR DAY IS DONE, when your GLORY DAYS have disappeared, do NOT despair. WITHIN your Treasure of memories, joys & sorrows, that suitcase of experience which U launched - as we sometimes do - like a message in a bottle - launched into the bay of Corozal?

When your Day is done, your ovalis, depleted, menopause, your beauty fading, suitors no longer E-Mail/Facebook messages dried up? Your Grand Children dragging your skirts to the floor but that SAMBA in your Soul, never gonna let U go? (And the Kids R OK!)

When your Holly-weird sense of fashion boardwalk fame IS OVER, do U fade or DO U FLAME into that majestic Lady whose ROBES U were destined to wear... New Shades, new shimmy-shammy dress/I can still TANGO with the best? "WATCH-ME!!!"

When they DAY is done, yet sometimes NIGHT, a comfort zone, suggests, my Lady, U might have won! As for TEARS; no need. A Life. Not always a breeze. A salute...for the Queen of Belize.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. /Decication/cognoscenti/not necessary.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The DA-VINCI CODE DECIPHERED!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The DA VINCI CODE DECIPHERED!"

...IT'S NOT ALL BAD BEING the Town Drunk though one DOES get to be a tad infamous for raising a few eyebrows especially amongst the communities, church-going Spinsters?

It's not ALL bad yet occasionally getting "pilloried" in the village-green "Stocks", getting pelted with rotten fruit & Veg, by respected citizens-"Les Mistons!", drug dealing kids in need of a de-tox reality spell to unleash their inner (lactating?) confusion?

It's not ALL bad being the Town Drunk. For One, I have open access to the keys of my own "drunk tank" jailhouse Cell (Andy Griffith's show), no reservation required! -where I can sleep-off the Nights "load" & not get yelled at by "she who must be obeyed" at HOME, quietly a-waiting like a Black Widow Spider, and in her previous Life (Reincarnation?) U gotta wonder? God know why I married her or she, ME!

It's not ALL bad, overqualified, Town Drunk specifications - YES; I just checked IN to see what condition my condition was IN? And? Yes! AND! -I once educated the locals how to effortlessly grind GRAIN. "Use Mommy Nature!" I said, holding my wet thumb into the breeze, the WIND: "It's called a Windmill!" I might have added, "Get cracking!"? -THAT didn't go down well...

...My designs for a helicopter, Submarines, Satellites, and especially a HOT AIR BALOON (Zeppelins), lord KNOWS, folks round here R full of it? Anyhow, my ideas were cursory considered, judged quite ridiculous & deemed insane/I was un-employable, so I graduated to the high office of Town Drunk: Where U now find me, painting landscapes, writing poetry, TWIX LIBATIONS thus I execute my life. "O sole mio?" not a bit of it. Mostly, with wine, I have a good time!

As for the future, when I'm dead & assuredly GONE? I hope someone will say a prayer, a Kaddish for me? A legacy OF existence. The Town Drunk who walked amongst Ye & attempted to discover Mommy-Nature's divinity; a purpose for ALL, above the treadmill of your chosen indenture or the swings & arrows of outrageous fortune!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Papillion!""

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Papillion!" (Après Dylan Thomas.)

...DO NOT GO BENTLEY into dat ROLLS-ROYCE night! The Old Boy Club/Class system will not invite U into their "high-hat" cannibalism, Conservative Grandees; baby, U don't have a chance a 'la Thomas Hardy's "Jude the Obscure".

Do not go DAIMLER though U rage, RAGE against a tempest of social disadvantage or write what U SCREAM! Better U fire up an old Spitfire/M.G. Afterall, your Gal is happy, hair blowing in the wind in the passenger seat, in love; what more could U need?

Do not go Bently into that Rolls-Royce night; elegant cufflinks, Tie pins, a diamond - just the one - earring? Worth nothing when U R a corpse. And don't advertise, Crematoria-personnel/grave robbers abound!

...I saw, actually, in my travels, many times a Gal. White dress. Fancy free. Faint heart never won fair maiden. But I never in fact met her, situ., on crowded trains, some German "fuss ganger zone" whilst busking/poor boy, strumming my guitar? I never busied up to her, happy, just to be a witness of her gay delight. Needless to say, to this day SHE still Butterflies, an eternal IMAGIO in my mind.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Gatsby's afternoon."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Great Gatsby's afternoon."

...REGARDING HOUSE GUEST KAREN: "I'm offended by your Political Views, in addition, your body odor, post swimming pool, U stink of chlorine & U R NOT wearing Chanel No. Whoosits. It's insufferable!!!" (This was prior to GATSBY getting SHOT! -as per F. Scot-Fitzgerald's novel, semi portrayed in David Hockney's painting: A BIGGER SPLASH!))

(Back to House Guest KAREN:) "I'm offended by your lack of acknowledgment of my frail dynamic, my wishes & whims! Don't U understand what I'm going thru!? MEIN GOTT! I COULD be ovulating!?"

(She goes on:) "I'm also SERIOUSLY offended by..." this is followed by a TOME of listed complaints as the Great Gatsby, prior to being assassinated, doing his best to slouch by the swimming pool on a tropical, Saturday night, is - thank God/ calls herself TALLULAH, a "FLAPPER-going on COUGAR", is when she leaves.

(Wotchagonna-DO?) House guests R always welcome/old saying: After a few days, the place smells like fish. And the sweetest moment, hopefully, good humoredly, is WHEN they leave:

 A day in the Life of the Great Gatsby before some lunatic took his life. Or so the alternative story goes! Gotta figure it was an absorbent, busy day? Pity how it played out... like a shadow in the Sun...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "North by North-West!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/small country by Mexico/Dave Delacroix: "North by North-West!"

(dedicato: Mah-Babee, Carol Aniello & QUEEN NADIA, Chicagoan & Mayoress of Ranchito, Belize.)

"North by North-West!"

MAH BABEE DONE GONE BACK to the U.S. of A., but alas, (Song by Dave van Ronk/1960s/covered by Bob Dylan:) "Baby let me follow U down." due to (Donald Trump) Immigration VISA complications, I cannot do! And I DO BELIEVE that DONALD for new-baby Christenings is of now as un-popular as ADOLF!!! (Go figure.) HITLER of course never requested his likeness added to Mount Rushmore though his moustache might have aided Carey Grant's cliff-hanger in the HITCHCOCK movie, "North by Northwest"! But I digress...

...MAH BABEE DONE GONE (today) back to "the home of the brave & the land - aha! - of the Free". But I cannot follow her. Actually...er...the fact IS I in-advertently over-stayed my Tourist-Visitor's VISA by 27 YEARS (I assure U/purely a clerical over-sight on my part) all the while, recording several CD's, playing Gigs, festivals, Roadhouses, cafes & Bars, appearing on T.V. shows, busking on the street and I DID make it back to Europe once or twice and rarely - hitch-hiking w/guitar - had problems with America's "finest" (Cops!)  though I DID get thrown into the "drunk tank" (overnight stay) once in a while (Denver, Jacksonville-Fla., Nashville-Tennessee, Delacroix-Mississippi comes to mind?) but those "Barney Fife's", airport Immigration "Wooden-Tops", Raleigh-Carolina, recently Computerized, had my "drunk tank" BIO done to rights: Third time USA re-entry, DENIED...And I SO HATE negativity? But I digress...

MAH BABEE DONE GONE BACK to "Trump-Land", for a while & (aged 70!) I'm sad & lonely though I'm THINKING - North by North-West - she's gonna be back here - in BELIZE - real soon!... I LOVE the opening soundtrack of that Movie by the way? North by Northwest?... But once again...I digress...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix/on Facebook: David Michael Oxley. See Y-all on Campus!

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Yesterdays Ghosts!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Yesterdays Ghosts!"

...JUST WHO/WHERE R THEY our yesterday's Ghosts who nightly haunt our dreams; what uncanny-diabolic, a river of regrets (?) flood our latter-day waking schemes? (I AM NO IAGO!!!) A Confession?

Just WHO R these ghosts of yesterday. We have robbed, flinched & indirectly murdered OR romantically " A BOUNDER" but why should we be hounded; certainly, not sent to the GUILLOTINE!?U didn't get her pregnant?

UNCANNY lies the map of a Man's MIND, it's twists & turns, its eclectic sinew that resolves: an altruistic or moral conflicted bind? Where & HOW yesterday's Ghosts fester, un-afraid to worry a Soul to the marrow, (Un-spoken/Mac-somebody by Shakespeare) a Scottish Play!

"OUT! OUT! DAMMED SPOT! My TITS MILK turns to GALL -Vinegar!" (Early T.V. Murderer's confession/Law & Boredom series etc. never used. Pity!)

And THERE we lie, awake at night. Not enough SHEEP to count & keep saying: "Not Guilty." In this supernatural existence.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Midnite Lady!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Midnite Lady!"

...I DON'T GOT NO MIDNITE LADY anymore; late at night she doesn't answer my calls: her REAL boyfriend is sometimes always at home? (HE, answers the phone!?)

I don't got NO "Witchy Way Woman" (Eagles-song:), these days, she don't answer her phone; not necessarily a heartbreaker: her lipstick on my pillow! (Her scent still fills my room?)

I don't got no Midnite Lady anymore but YEARS before, I was a Champagne-toast in a taciturn Love but then she became a Ghost? (A twilight of loneliness can usurp a Soul?) "Tra-la-la!" -Who she loves/where she runs?

She was a Midnite Lady, a Moths flight into My light, a sexual existentialist that dissolved in our night. A Midnite Lady no longer in sight. My Midnite Lady. My Lady of the Night!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where our GLORY lies..."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where our Glory lies!"

...EMANCIPATED KIDS, we Used to call them Rock & Rollers, BLUES MEN PUNK GALS, MOHICAN HAIRCUTS!! Punk Rockers! London! Trafalgar Square! But now? IN PERSIA/IRAN/AFGHANISTAN why would U even to bother to VACUUM/SAVE EM? What HAS their Geographical/Cultural SEWER become/"By the Rivers of Babylon, where we sat down?" ...Gold, Frankincense or Mer? A hidden shrine of Zarathustra!? Where the DIGNITY of Girls & WOMAN R CUT DOWN!!!

HIJABS wear SPIES, SPIES wear HIJABS! Wotchagonna-DO? And there was ME thinking "Cross-Dressing" began in the Bowery district, Manhattan, New York City or Weimar-Era Belin before the NAZIS started building Germany's Autobahns?

NO NATION can conquer a country, which, essentially in "Western European Terms" is a geographically CULTURAL INSANE ASSYLUM but their mountainous, on the GO Cuisine, chopped Lamb & Basmati rice is not to be dismissed? Cuisine or a national Football game will always reduce/dilute HATE & stop the bullets flying? (Middle East/Jews-Arabs/ conflict-thingy/funny how that works?)

Emancipated KIDS, aged 12, Emancipated HIJAB, whether they want to "infantile' get VIOLATED or not, don't play that ISLAMIC/Medievalist RAGA. It's a RAGA U don't or ever want to know! Your (girls) by an authorized (Islamic) Physician, will TEAR off your Clitoris so U will never feel a Woman's right to Nature Again.

RE-Reading the QUORAN, bestiality towards WOMEN I didn't note. ISLAM, at least in Western Countries; Get out of here before U feel our WRATH!....PAYBACK-Baby!!! (Sorry bout Dat!)

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix/"THE BUSKER!" (Apres, Picasso's - Blue Period - Painting; The Guitarist.)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/DAVE DELACROIX/ A.K.A. David Michael Oxley, age 70 on Facebook but still drinking like a Fish: "THE BUSKER/Street music-making MAN!"

(Apres PICASSO'S - BLUE PERIOD - painting, The Guitarist.)

"THE BUSKER!"

(dedicato to Sylvie in Freiburg/Germany.)

"The BUSKER!"

...HE'S NO GOOD WITHOUT A WOMAN, just the same without a WIFE! He's no good without a JOB, Saturday night, but he'll take that OPTION, go play Cards all night; it's nothing to him to shoot some Dice! Seroius callouses on his Guitar fingertips, no lipstick on his collar. His alibi.

HE'S NO GOOD without a BANJO making DUCATS on the street? And Hugs & kisses, smiles for everyone he's sure to meet? But HE'S "no good" without a WOMAN or he'd be living on the street! Old joke: Musician without a girlfriend? Homeless!!!

He's NO GOOD without a Woman, a symbol, Love's IDEAL on a plate? He never ever looks before he leaps into your life, into your heart. It takes a special -Machiavellian? - talent to conjure a tune which makes a fair Maidens Soul beat?...

There's an invisible/barely audible orchestration, a background serenity 'bout (Poet) Francois Villon in a den of thieves, "Fat Margot" or "This Brothel where we ply our trade.", or "Where ARE the snows of Yesteryear", "La Boulevard/Rue", a STREET MINDSET where anything, alas still goes?

.... But AS U know, he's no good, no good without a Woman. Playing a repetitive SONG after bloody same SONG, OUT THERE playing every Saturday night...A footfall/donating-public "fussganger"-zone constantly passing him by? -Yet some BELLA always in his mind. "Sans" Banjo, a broken Guitar, and in all weathers, rain or shine, sometimes the bleakest Winter cold - BLUE FINGERS ON STRINGS! -she, somehow is always on his mind...

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Mirror of History!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Mirror of History!"

...NEVER PUT IT IN WRITING, never - "Mein Gott!!!" chisel in stone, never feel too much loss when U R broken/past loves ALWAYS a-haunting: just carve her name - on a tree? - with Pride.

Never think U let her down or destroyed her illusions; maybe she too was reaching for something above U when in fact, within your own Life, past failed loves, you recovered in the round? Yet uncertain of this new love U have found?

And all the time, she too was always looking outside, but for you both, in retrospect, & a carnival of kiss-and-tell, joys & triumphs, rage/despair and all the chaos of LOVE IN THE AIR, yet with dignity, what little U have; carve her name with Pride.

In Love? Guilty IS Guilty, not one of us is innocent. We R all as guilty as SIN. Your reflection in the MIRROR belies everyone else's perception & GOD KNOWS what your Lovers see U AS, or they see IN U? (A Rockstar? The Band: "The Swinging Neanderthals"?)

Never put it in writing, never a hieroglyphic handprint on a prehistoric cave wall. Those pesky Archeologists/modern grave-robbers will try to make sense of your Life's Love! (He was a Hunter-Gatherer? /Probably tried having sex with a RHINO/S-how he lost his Test-Tackles/No Inter-net Porn back then.)

 THEY (Archeologists/Historians) will always overlook that tree in the forest, that personal Eden where pre-history's LOVE bloomed, then a kiss dismissed, a regret but later, a place of loneliness, a place in your heart where-in your Soul's divinity U carved her now forgotten...her name with Pride.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.  

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Catfish on the Bone!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Catfish on the Bone!"

(dedicato: Sarah B. Solo.)

"Catfish on the Bone."

(Singing:) DON'T LET THE COOL OF THE EVENING pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. Keep your eye on the prize, oh babee, U know the reason why? Don't let the cool of the evening pass U by.

Don't U ever go downtown-Memphis without Me. Don't U ever go downtown-Memphis without me. We'll go fishing, Arkansas-Green River: Cook Catfish on the bone! Don't U go down to Memphis, Tennessee, without me.

Don't let the Cool of the Evening pass U by. Don't let the Cool of the Evening pass U by. Keep your eye on the prize, cos' U-er the reason why, don't let the cool of the evening pass U by. Don't let the cool of the evening pass US by...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "...I've been around the World!"

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "...I've been around the World."

(Singing:)...BEEN AROUND THE BLOCK; U KNOW just WHAT-WHAT IS! U travelled the 7 Seas; U know a rogue wave's a-coming...when it's in your face? 

Been around the SCENE; thieves & (hippy-talking) gangsters, "de rigour" for Hollywood, wotchagonna-DO, your Life, an answer: IS IT? IS IT?

...Been around the World, I still can't find my Babee, Tropic of Cancer, a Capricorn lack of Mercy? See U on the Greyhound BUS, just where it takes us. Kansas City-Missouri is where we get dumped in a roadside, fast food lullaby.

Been around the BLOCK still going nowhere, veiled kisses & embrace, a hollow SOMEPLACE, an emptiness that resonates like a Cancer-benign, a parallax, a comfort that never lets U totally despair! 

c.2026. Dave Delacroix/Also known on FACEBOOK as "David Michael Oxley" (My Russian K.G.B. SPY name./No good now since I am now employed by the C.I.A/Facebook I.D. still good...I DO NOT wear a Triblby or a Mackintosh raincoat or speak COCKNEY like Actor Michael Caine, but IF I DID I would probably make more Money!)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix (Double Agant!)