Our Man in Europe/noe Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Grande Illusion!"

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

...ARIBA! ARIBA! C'mon! C'mon! YOU/WE were never meant to be RIGHT... about everything; changing Times, our ever-changing WAYS as we SKIPPED thru Life, always treading on thin ice, day by day, non-cognoscenti...? No more WARS/No more regrets? (Dream-ON!)

That "grande-illusion" in which we slavishly have FAITH, quite oblivious of our Tomorrow's or just what the Weather should bring? DID WE Sherk-off our Destiny or did we - blind-on-blind - put our faith in a scripture, an Icon, some JU-JU DUDE, a Cult-consciously to which - optional? - we should never belong? (Chanting: BOOGALOO-GA-LOO!?) ...LOOS R sometimes necessary? Otherwise, some "Barney Fife"/U.S.A. COP will bust U for peeing in the street!

There's NO Guillotine, nor executioners-block to cement our youthful "raison-d'etre", our Humanitarian/EARTHLY TREASON! And as for - Romeo & Juliet - Love's chaotic GYRO, why should they not bond? A kiss or 2? Love's "transgressions" R our lives IN BLOOM! Nobody goes to HELL having not first had a taste of Heaven?

Ariba! Ariba! C'mon! C'mon! YOU/WE were/R actually ON POINT! Our genetic Achilles-heel. A blind spot! A Solar vision, an in-bred DAZE, a shadow in the Sun, our consciousness, absolute, never, alas to be WON! And in changing Times, a new vintage of wine; leastways U can salute, drink to the follies of YOUTH yet sadly, unable to guide those that follow.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...R U GOING TO Scarborough Fair, some Gal U left behind is still a-waiting U there? Between the leaves of the book of your Life; she once was your destiny's child.

Build a Bailey, a Castle-keep so U can defend from Love: "Let my heart sleep!" A Cambric shirt, a Penelope weave to waylay your destiny from a Tomorrow's defeat.

...R. U. going to Scarborough Fair; parsley-sage, rosemary & Thyme. R U going to Scarborough Fair? Remember me to One who lives there? -She once was a true love that I left behind...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "My OWN personal U.F.O.!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "My OWN, personal, U.F.O.!"

My Own personal (Jesus?) U.F.O. came to visit me at No. 417 Bayshore Drive. Naturally, my OWN personal "antennae" protruded & went to DEP-COM-FIVE, maybe SIX so I dialed (rotary phone) for Directory Enquiries.

 The Operator, nice Lady named Saphire Steel (Steampunk?) asked me which/what "enquiries" I required?

I tried to explain that there was a U.F.O. in my wardrobe! SHE, (Saphire Steel) directed me to a TOME of Psychotherapists, none of them I'd ever heard of!!! -ALL guaranteed to have the patience of a Saint with the knack of highlighting a catch-thrase!

So, I (rotary phone) DIALED 20 of the 25 numbers (Which Saphire Steel) provided uniformly getting Ansa phone: Doctor BLOW is at a U.F.O. Delusionists Conference in MIAMI!

...Meantime, dat U.F.O. is hovering/blinking lights IN MY WARDROBE!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...The PEN is poised, the parchment un-scrolled, the WIG a-powdered, ROUGE stamped upon cheek to cheek. A nose-gay, always at hand of course. The scars of smallpox smothered in lead-based cream. Complexion? A-kin to Stilton or Rochefort cheese. Crooked, yellowed teeth, dental gaps like shattered windows affording a vista of full-throated, bloodied Hell. I note a fuzzy reflection from a tarnished mirror my Valet forgot to clean; I stare into its oblique image, highlighted by a fluttering candle as pen upon parchment scratches: "I THINK therefore I AM!" (Descartes)

CENTURIES LATER, (Descartes in spirit?) my foot-dangling goes: WIGGLE-DE-WOOGALY-WOO! Like Doctor Strangelove, I have to SLAP my spasmodic/involuntary leg movements/REMIND IT (!!!) just WHO IS "the new kid in town!?" (Keeping in mind BI-POLAR SELFIES R always the worst?) A no-brainer! Sitting STILL sucks. Men of action have no such worries.

The FIRST (Pre-History) "Selfies", something within, something without; a lagoon of the mind R PAINTED/charcoal (?) HANDPRINTS depicting ancient Safaris displayed on cave walls! Amidst the enclave/habitat of domestic hullabaloo of cooking fires, woman drying collected herbs or pounding/stitching animal skins for Winter clothing, kids, un-caring, swarming, the men honing/employed in perfecting their weaponry, the tribal JU-JU-Man, a bone-flute trying to replicate the sound of the wind or the silence of the moon? And at such times, peaceful, a father & son:

 "DAD!? Can I put MY handprints on our cave wall?" 

"Yes Son. They R yours. UNIQUE. Let Eternity know that U EXISTED!"

"Cool!!!"

..."To BE or NOT TO BE!" That's the kind of question which muddies the water. So why ask? Meantime, the "Selfie", ego-driven from Sumerian clay tablets, Egyptian hieroglyphics, the latter, the sideways-profile fashion - ancient DISCO? - till PORTRAITURE evolved & became the fad evolving into Impressionism/Surrealism (GO-TO! -stuff) till the advent of photography & THEN everyone had the option of symbolizing themselves as an Andy Warhol soup can! (Ya gotta wonder!?)

It's ironic that early Police Detectives (Not including Sherlock Holmes) didn't foresee the VALUE of pre-historic handprints on cave walls. (Fingerprints?)...

AS FOR un-wanted "Selfies", numbered-Police Mugshots or missing Kids photos on milk cartons, the last vista-Selfies of idiots falling off cliffs on vacation all traces back, pre-history, to a handprint on a cave wall...a long time ago.

...The pen is poised.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Ya Gotta have BLING!" (Song)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/ "Ya Gotta have BLING!" (Song)

(Dedicato fellow Songsters: Damon Wood, Marc Pierson, Stevie Nicks, Beggs Patrick, Nathan Payne, Jason Eklund, Michael DE Yoanna.)

"YA GOTTA HAVE BLING!!!"

YA GOTTA HAVE BLING, U gotta have Bling! -Stuff that makes U Sing: U gotta have Bling.

... U-Babee Bling-bling-bling, baby; you're Babee-Bling! That cache of my Soul. That Bling U give, PRICELESS! - the thing dat makes me whole?

Ya gotta look COOL - Oo-wee! - like U WON - Oo-wee! - U gotta live a Bling-Life, ain't nuttin' without your fun.

...WITH NO BLING how can U be steppin' out? Without NO BLING U ain't gonna Twist & Shout!...U gotta have Bling... to FLAUNT it every Saturday night?

 After SEVEN YEARS I never met a Dude who was happy with his Wife? Guess they lost their Bling; it sometimes happens...

 Me & my Babee> We've got that Bling. U can hear us sing. We got DAT BLING! (Heaven help us!) We got dat Bling. How long will it last? U ASK DA BLING! (Dat Ansa phone ain't NO responding!!!)

...And when we're SAD, no worries, that Bling-will carry us through. We remember just what keeps us together, SINGING /BLINGING for ME & just for U?

Ya gotta have Bling. Stuff that makes U Sing. Ya gotta have Bling. - Make it PERSONAL!!! That Bling within YOU! Ya gotta have Bling. No song without Bling. THIS BLING... dedicated to U!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/noe Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The River of our Dreams."

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

...I'D RATHER GO TO CHURCH than harvest Sugar Cane Fields in tropical Belize? I'd rather go to Church than get circumcised, ritual/religio disfigurement, maybe a wrist-tattoo: "I love MOMMA"? or never put a SWATSTIKA on my upper arm, goosestepped, or moshed pit at an Evangelist congregation?

As for being clothed (?) in a Pink TUTU on Stage? Not MIO, but many Music's Colleagues had wicked Rock N' Roll BALLS. Thank GOD, in retrospect, I skipped THAT Light-Fandango! Just composed & sang da Songs. (Looking destitute somehow, leastways got me a date or 2?)

(The river of our Dreams?)

...I'd rather go to CHURCH than starting out my Day drinking anything - "de'rigeur" than a Bloody MARY (breakfast) Cafe-au-lait/Croissant beside? And YOU, "Mon Cherie" in the "le'hotel" boudoir, what costume should U wear? My Life-long romantic expectation, positively GLOBAL!!! "Plat du Jour", lunch "en batteau" along the river Seine? Whose Mistress were U, when U disappeared into Le Quartier "San Germaine"?

(The river of our Dreams?)

...I'd rather go to CHURCH, a Sunday Welsh Chapel, on the Sabbath x-3 (!) than stab an old friend in the back - like so many have done to U & Me? SHAKESPEARE & RICHARD 111; worst RAP! Mis-aligned Lucrezia BORGIA who PLAYED her position & Femininity with exceptional skill.  And Historically, NEEDS-MUST, U whack the competition before it whacks YOU! A tradition evident in global Politics, Hollywood, WALL STREET, fighting beggars on the street for terrain, zealous Lovers, JEALOUSE Lovers, inevitably, always too!!!

(The river of our Dreams?)

...The LOSERS? So, THEN we "whiplash!", "farewell-Cruel World", "never again!"/"I'd rather go to Church!), a VAMPIRE we R born to nick the neck of the World! PROMO; a Gothic Video of BATS, yes: BATS!!! - filmed upside down - dancing in caricature imitation, DISCO, attempts at Mating? (BUZZ-FLA-FLAP!) It SEEMS ALL ANIMAL NATURE has picked up our bad habits: Lions, Jackels, a nest of SPIES!?

(The river of our Dreams?)

...I'd rather go to CHURCH, but sometimes Life/experience necessitates U follow the flock (BAA! BAA! BAA!) to join the multitudes who daily watch THEIR dreams flow downstream. The river of their Dreams. A Goddess, GODDESS ASTART, dark, WITCHARY! At first meandering then picking up speed, a RIVER broad & full-throated then to dissolve & silenced in the Sea. SIDHARTA, Literary-Icon pontificates "LIFE is a River." No-one knows to where it leads.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA ZIZZ over DA ZAZZ!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA ZIZZ over DA ZAZZ!"

...DA ZIZZ over DA ZAZZ, that "fun-wicked" (why-not?)  in your Soul, an inherent BOOGALOO founded in Nature's innocence, your dancing shoes? Nobody, in Love is perfect, unrequited Love/nobody's quite ordained a FOOL but sometimes we get USED, portrayed a Lady Macbeth, Helene of Troy, Clepatra on a bad day, Lucrezia Borgia dallying with her pet monkeys played in Movies as a Card-Sharpe-Duce! As for their "Ladies-in-Waiting? The last Dowager-Empress of CHINA, fan-tan- splendor- Courtesan- imperium? Disco-Queens-Bordello?

 But ALAS!!! -Culturally Gender-prejudiced/ISLAM FEMALE GENDER-EMANCIPATED-GENOCIDE? -FEMALE-HOLOCAUSTS!!! (No Death Camps. Just Village/town squares long since bulldozed over?)  BIKINI-ATOLL under lecherous eyes? Medievalism/Islamic/lack of CEREBRAL development circles like buzzards over Civilizations' skies. MALE Madding crowds! MALE Mob rules!  Leastways, no Joan of Arc. No Boadicea. no Memorial... Bury my heart in Canoga Park?

Whilst Non-Victims from Persia to Scotland, left only with Cultural REFUGEE recourse, or those remaining/resisting destined to get STONED, LASHED! Or burnt on a Witches pyre? At the hands of a Witchfinder-General, IMANS, MEN IN GREY, uneducated: Civic Leaders of authorized, institutionalized EVIL?... (Obviously, a bunch of small-Dicks! - a-feared of a Gal's Tongue-lashing!?) Lord KNOWS, tapestries, chronicles, in evidence - tailoring? - they never visited, "Saville Row"? -TITS & VAGINAS, LASHED/burnt, row on row!? (A BIKER Saturday Nite -Gang Bang!?)...Where REASON, never mind the Angels fears to tread?

DAT ZIZZ-ZAZZ; our inner-Soul, DAT MIDNITE HOUR, in later years, will (assuredly) come back to HAUNT like a graverobber picking OVER an interned Corpse; rings, golden trinkets, bits & bobs, cherished souvenirs, predictably DAT ZIZZ's Archeologist will never UNDERSTAND, lost ancient Domini who put pen to papyrus/clay tablets, the ZIZZ of ZAZZ of sacrifice, a HISTORY/testament of how beautiful Cultural pre-ISLAM Poetry BUTTERFLIED; Lesbos in Greece, or how well U TOO, once played upon a stringed Lyre, like Penelope, Ulysses WIFE, who long-awaited an enlightened MAN to reign by her side. As for CENTURIES now, far too MANY too late, but THIS, their Song, which can never die: Da ZIZZ over ZAZZ! We pray - BRIDE-BURNING! /CLITHORAL-CIRCUMCISION! - now, in 2026 WE RAISE OUR VOICES!!! And protect Life's Maidens. Not only in our humanity-indignation but to provide Global Protection...if only for ONE Child-Bride if it's not too late.

As for that Shakespeare/Dante/Homer of ancient PERSIA, pre-ISLAM, HAFIZ!!!...He wrote: "Do not play with a Tigers Cubs nor destroy a young lady's illusions" He was a free-thinker, a Lover, a POET-TOO, who found inspiration in the opposite sex not fearing their majestic persona! AVE HAFIZ!!! Poets, my friends, of yesteryear might be forgotten but R vastly underrated!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "HUGS FOR YOUR PLUGS!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "HUGS FOR YOUR PLUGS!"

...HUGS FOR YOUR PLUGS/BLOG VIEWS my INTERNATIONAL Friends! October 2026 has become a BUMPER viewing event & I am IN AWE & HONORED by your recognition of this pond-size ripple within an OCEAN of Inter-net/Blog diatribe: October: 200,000 plus hits!... This Old ex-Rockstar, feeling quite dizzy. ENCORE! Encore my Friends. U R ALL invited to my - Chateaux-Pelican - Belizean Guest Villa for a grande BBQ/Beer fest!!!

Aside, in all humility, some background, though NOT in any way promoting/advertising I alert U to a NEW uploaded website: U-tube, Dave Delacroix (just Google?) which - bits & bobs from my Music Career past - showcase my Songs/CDs/Videos & most recently, SHORT MOVIES in which I have participated/soundtracked/produced etc.

Once again, a heartwarming INTERNATIONAL THANKS & if, not TO overload U with INFO, my day-to day "BOOGALOO" can be monitored/FRIEND-ME through my Facebook page (David Michael Oxley/my original English family name) for tales of lunacy/happenstance/foibles & our shared, life-long misadventures! -A SALUTE to ONE & ALL!!! (With Love...).

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Bonfire of the Vanities!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Bonfire of the Vanities!"

...A funny thing happened on ROME's "sacred way" (Via Sacre!) as they conveyed my CORPSE onward/ to the inner Forum - my belated TRIUMPH - funeral pyre.? But NOT QUITE DEAD (but loving it? - not wearing a PLAID Toga/Avante-garde thingy?) it seemed necessary - "Post-Mortem-Cyber-Housekeeping!?" - IN THE COFFIN -that I "clear the decks" last-minute-responses to all my Internet responsibilities, w/ Cellphone, RAPIDLY texting which - from friends & music fans - I felt it discourteous/ inconvenient, inopportune considering my SITU that THEY, as an afterthought, text me? So, comatose, supposedly DEAD, Rapido-last second-texting, The PURGE /the last messages of a Corpse:

..."Yes. OMIGI-Cool! Your last Facebook post? Awesome! NO! I can't make it to your next concert/BBQ/Bar-Mitz-Bar/Wedding anniversary/Biker-Gang festa next Saturday/my profuse apologies/I gotta date with FATE; NO!!! Don't ask!"...HUGS!?" I had to be QUICK! I'm supposed to be cremated soonest! (...Not sure if I ever "Signed out?)

...A funny thing happened - lugged along (Visa Sacre) upon the shoulders of my "favorite-usual-suspects" in a cheap-ass pine box w/fluted corners that I alone had personally ordered/the economy-size, pre-ordered has I had lately put on weight? And, proceeding in my funeral train, wagons of all my lifes-long souvenirs' I would take with me into a primaeval Valhalla, a PYRE, a veritable bonfire of MY Vanities: my fave Guitars, paintings, knick-knacks, cherished bits & bobs & a casket of old loves, locks of hair, the ONLY 1.000 WOMEN I ever loved?

...But with the INCESSANT - in the Coffin - CELLPHONE-RINGING ("Wake up Little SUZIE!) SOooo outraged my mortal repose causing the regurgitation of my Life's spirit so that I (Reincarnated?), screamed/kicked-off the lid of my cheap ass casket then hopped out IN A RAGE - some witnesses fainted -, & quickly gathered my WITS to gallantly invite all & sundry to my Wake's booze-fest!!!...On my appearance - pre-reserve drinking tavern/buffet - there of course, the Piano-guy died of shock/figured he might not get paid & the flies circling the overhead ceiling fans dropped to the floor en masse!

Apparently, at "WAKES-VILLE", I appeared to be the only dude who seemed to be having a good time? I loaded the Jukebox with snippets of Faure's Requiem. And U betcha! I insisted all Cellphones be switched off whilst reciting bone-chilling Gothic tales so recently, albeit, non-voluntarily, - Wake Up Little Suzie! - I'd carried - post-hoc - from the grave.

...Since THEN, graffiti is frequently painted on my humble house door: "Don't Cry WOLF!" (In Latin: NOLI FLERE LOPUM!) My OWN take on this is make sure your OWN Coffin/TOMB doesn't have WI-FI; better still, in advance - so U can R.I.P. - ditch your Cellphone, Laptop, APPS/A.I. in the nearest sewer! Maybe THEN U can get back to "facia et facia", that HUMAN TOUCH, which seemingly WE have all presently abandoned.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...THE LONG & BINDING ROAD won't let me go. One drink with U & one more for the road? 

Times tentacles get tighter even though now I get slow; it's not that I cannot resist, fight, nor be bold? -Just another aspect of a Soul getting old.

REMEMBER Spring? U trippin' da Light Fandango? What songs did U sing? Nowadays, can U even mimic the Tango?

The long & binding road... won't ever let me go. Time's Venus Flytrap has ME in its jaws!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "No Man is an Island." (Après Elizabethan Poet John Donne.)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "No Man is an Island." (Après Elizabethan Poet John Donne.)

...NO MAN IS AN ISLAND, no GAL, ovaries included is a complete archipelago. No freedom-fighter nor discontent rabid MOB is invulnerable, usurped by DEVILS who will piss on your noble rug?

No Man is an Island, no nobles, princess, Queen Penelope surrounded by WANNABEES/parasites who fail to string Ulysses' bow? Fate dictates, nightly her tapestry-unravelling?

No man is an island nor having sailed the seven seas, profitless in voyages of exploration, Love's OYSTER bereft of its enchanted pearl U will - unlikely - never see.

No man is an island. Trade winds ponder the mind. "LAND-HO!" -the crows-nest holler! Yet the riches of CATHAY U foolishly left behind.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ACHILLES' HEEL!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ACHILLES' HEEL!"

...IT'S ONLY LOVE'S FIRST WOUND, Nature's Achilles Heel, an INCUBUS, under your skin which determines your Heart's TATTOO to linger ever-after?

It's only Love's first BOOGALOO, till your final date with eternity; no-one is IMMUNE, no "Sheer-Luck" detective can decipher, postmortem corpse delicta?

It's ONLY Love's first wound, the unnecessary baggage of a refugee, a Spring rains "sigh" (?), that moment, palpitating when FOR Love U R prepared to die, a fool in love not knowing just why?

The GODS, out of our control, unaccountably, shoot an arrow in the air & just where it falls, head or heels, no gyro, its target, unpredictable! -nor forget or forgive the drumbeat of Histories repercussions.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...HOPE NOBODY SHOOTS ME - a 'la Great Gatsby - in my swimming pool? It'll totally screw-up - blood-spouting! -  the Pool's "P-H" level, the Pool-Guy'll give me HELL: Wotchagonna-DO? Post-mortems rarely prove anything 'cept the obvious. ("WE GOTTA FLOATER!!!)

...Hope nobody fixers it so I get MINCED in the gears of a combine-harvester, in IOWA (why not? Farmers, AMISH, if I'm not mistaken the gentlest State in the U.S.A/Jack Kerouac noted: "The prettiest Gals live in DES-MOINE!?" Still? Hitch-hiking w/Guitar IN Iowa wasn't the easiest State to get a ride? Too many Crime Shows on their Social media?

...HEROES, like U & I prefer to die on D-Day-Normandy, or attacking (Revolutionary France) the BASTILLE or with Prez-ROOSERVELT, storming San-Jaun Hill! Yup! But when your NUMBER'S UP U just get on UP, get a Medal or just flop like a sack of coal! (There's no shame in DAT!) But then, alas, how would U know?

...Hope NOBODY w/a black heart - they come in Spades! - some ejected Vixen who paid for the bullet, founded upon a trail of NEZ PERCE tears, a trail of YEARS, a trail of broken hearts and @ the END of the road...ME-hitting the local produce market, for HER w/accomplices, to interrupt my needy shopping?...

1) Tea-Bags.

2) Dishwash Soap.

3) VODKA!

4) Milk.

5) Olive Oil.

6) BEER!

7) Meat/Spaghetti sauce.

8) Lemon Juice/Worcester sauce/Bloody Mary mix.

9) Coffee? NO! I got it.

...NOPE! HOPE NOBODY, like the sword of Damocles bothers to trifle with my destiny? They'll find me willing & able to PISS on their revenge-EXISTENTIALISM; meantime? I'm diving into my "own-personal-Jesus", my swimming pool. "HOOP-LA!" to the demons in their Souls!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The BARD upon the Stage!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The BARD upon the Stage."

(dedicato: Sir John Waller, English Poet (1917-1995).

...WHISPER! WHISPER! The ENGLISH cultural/education School Choir: Where Heroes, sometimes fear to tread, NO "O sole Mio!!!" -God forbids! Farewell Achilles, AJAX too! Stick ya NECK OUT: U GET WACKED!!!, no denying. The Plebians will somehow hunt/grind U down? -mean time, collectively rousing a CHORUS of "Jerusalem", by William Blake, England's most - un-fashionable - greatest pre-modern-day Poet?... 

...A parallax society, in England, Nobility, Kings & Queens, in Italy, the Papacy, or faraway in a mud hut in FIGI, the Headsman, the JU-JU-MAN; nobody can remember how it started. Like in THEATRE! "Hamlet", asking universal questions upon a public stage.

...Where HEROES fear to tread; modern inter-net PIRATES, post Public School boys rip off the Stock Market daily for a PORSCHE or the Regal Pussy with a double-jointed name? Ezra Pound, Poet, your buddy, Sir John, I believe touched upon this subject?

...Where HEROES fear to tread, the famed theatrical bound of London's Shaftesbury Avenue, once saluted, HONOURED! -for dignity, altruism, now, perhaps usurps by Bollywood, Hollywood, we no longer see the woods for the trees as if ALL the World caught a Cold & all WE do is SNEEZE! And as for the common cold? -We still have yet to find a cure. The BARD, arms a-waving. Heroes in clover. A WHISPER! Alas "poor Yorick". His jests we can no longer hear.

C.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

 Our <an in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "RED SHOES!"

...U R TIRED, HIJAB-CLOAKED of your Culture's-"dictatorial"; me too! Wearing a THONG, they sneer/try to prohibit ME from promenading down Main St. or wandering in the Bazaar? My butt cheeks sneer at their every glance en- route to Sunday Chapel or an Iman's call to brainwashing prayer, (Singing: All things bright & wonderful...) People R way too gullible, leastways sensitive? Think of L.A. Valley Girls with serious fashion "Issues!" (Personally, I never DO! Happy in my Thong.)

But just where R my Red Shoes, the ones my heart was destined to dance with? - a Lady sings...

...U HAVE TIRED of the LIMBO, that frenetic MAMBO, U have finally tired of the Love that Loved U?  (Some Loser!) And IN your twilight, perhaps a sparkle of magic, the kind: A Jack-in-da-Box yet IN your eyes it's tragic? -allowing for HIJAB-CLOAKED sighting? (No-one KNOWS where your heart lays>) A bi-pod cloak like a sack of coal. An Iman's, Ju-Ju-Man's distain for your feminine humanity.

But where R my Red Shoes, the ones my heart was destined to dance with? - a Lady sings...

U R TIRED, HIJAB-CLOAKED! Refugees VOTE with their FEET. Biblically, Judith cut off Holofernes head, Jacque-Louis-DAVID's famous painting, the Death of Marat? -She wacked him in the bathtub! I think Lucezua Borgia got a bad rap. She was too busy being pampered to be worried about where her attendants had stored her red shoes?

...WE R ALL EXHAUSTED/TIRED of the redundant dictates of "little men", the Rabis, Imans, Bhudas, Ju-Ju-Men, Orthodox, Non-Orthodox who EQUALLY do a fine line in pointy hats & fine tailoring, pomp & circumstance, an institutionalized psychology to sustain societies banking/greed status quo? -Leaving U THUS. no Lady-razor, NO red shoes! But like U, we ain't done yet. A-MAH GONNA - till the day I die/hoping U do too -PUT ON DEM RED SHOES!!!

-And internationally, NO LONGER, hopefully, in times to come will a GIRL or LADY sing; "But where R my Red Shoes, nor GET circumcised or CUT OFF their CLITORIS, the RED SHOES, the one their HEART was destined to dance with?"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "TAKE FIVE!" (Apres Dave Brubeck song)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "TAKE FIVE!" (Apres Dave Brubeck song)

...THE SKY (CLOUD-THINGIES) WOZ driving North with the Handbrake ON which mirrored my mood, atop my Bloody Mary breakfast, a libation to no GODS in particular.

There's no rhyme nor reason 'cept a fading/diminishing echo of that past evening's Midnight Choir I enjoined with such gusto-annexed to having solved ALL the World's problems in YARDS of Ale & with ONE (or three?) a good Whisky's GULP?

HENCE! The Mind's "handbrake" (hangover?) whence common-sense attempts to reclaim its rightful though fragile domain? Sometimes-SERIOUS! Priestly Confessions, expensive Psychotherapy: "Smoke Em if Ya got Em!!!"

...So! Who, the Fool? Who, the Clown? Or the KING, that universal compound seated above us all; a witness, eternal, to TWO Galaxies-colliding, a "tempo dia Muertos" awaiting Dave Brubeck's "Take-5!" to send us ALL on our hapless way, yet once again? (Google tune & enjoy!)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Exile on Main Street."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Exile on Main Street,"

...NUTTIN' DOIN' DOWN HERE... on the Main Street of YOUR MIND; no regrets - Edif Piaff's, La vie a Rose! -  A "pastiche"; sadly/morbidly dwelling on an "olde Lange syne", finding ourselves hanging out with the furballs, CATS! -by the swim-pool on the patio... dwelling on all the Heavens & Hells, we each leave behind? 

Throw in - the scene - an ice/fog machine/Devils in the Fog, thus enshrouded INTO THE MYSTIC, a Van Morrison song! Sound CARRIES in the fog and sometimes, your Minds whispers can be overheard! Equally, underwater, a sound, a panic? A razor tooth SHARK will circle! The ocean's main street is where they do their shopping!

...NUTTIN' DOIN' ...down on the Main Street of your Mind. Times, U remember, Times, U cannot recall. Some, U cherish. Some, U try to forget. A Quantum-Physic: U see what U see. But "Under the Volcano" (L.S.Lowry) there's a Yellowstone (mega-seismic-activity) ACTIVE, yet to spout. No-No! No need for Confession. Vocal flatulence don't count>

Nuttin' doin' down on Main Street. Bald, empty, deserted. S-where everyone's dreams come-a Courting!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA CATS "ME-OWW!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA CATS "ME-OWW!"

...da CAT's "Me-OWW!" treads upon your Laptop (keys?), Feline Code, the Cat's PAW meaning nothing at all? Perhaps a PURR in da Nite, a squeal, a fright, your ruffled fur, yearning for comfort, a saucer of Cream. Outside in the rain, a thing U don't want or need.

...LIPSTICK on your collar...told a tale ON U & wotcha-gonna-DO? The Night has 1,000 eyes yet U persist & PURR just like a fool? Cats, PUSSY encroaches into the ghost of Life's machine, it oils the wheels of suspicion, jealousy, a Cat's PAW on PAW, an IAGO to destroy your faith in Desdemona's dream? 

Poor OTHELLO, marooned in - Iago's - prompt mistrust. The island of MALTA estranged in the Sea. So many DARES & DISPLAYS "a Tree grows in Brooklyn" before they chopped it down!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

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

(dedicato: Greg Hunter)

"The Hollow Soul."

...IN MY TIME I HAVE BEEN DIRECTED TO DWELL in the bowels of ancient history, Roman, Magna-Greco & as a child, played upon Anglo-Saxon battlefields. U would THINK, culturally, some of this "gleaning" might have rubbed off? -Yet, diluted by contemporary "education"; teachers, college PROFS they somehow "gilded the Lily" to re-varnish: The Charge of the Light Brigade/ZULU Wars, TRENCHES-W.W.1. where, pretty much our LADS got slaughtered, or the Admiralty, never mind U.K. "Codebreakers/ENIGMA" haplessly provided NAZI Codebreakers with Atlantic Convoy data over at Club-lunches & Gin & Tonics! (NO T.V. History Documentaries ON THAT!!!): 55,000 Merchant Seaman victims of Nazi U-Boats! Adolf Hitler: "Thanks U dumb-ass Tommies for your indiscreet weekly updates!"

But GOD was always on Our side?

...In My Time I have dined with - Celebs! - F. Scott Fitzgerald's: The BEST, better STILL, Dined & laughingly DASHED even with Chase-Manhattan Bank, Lloyds of London personnel, Movie Stars UP the WAZEE which makes perhaps YOUR OWN nano-transgressions look like "Pea-Knuckle!" -Leastways, it doesn't/didn't lead to a WAR or a sovereign nations' "Coupe de tete!"... Train wrecks, BI-PEDAL take a long time to die. And a HOLLOW SOUL, an inverted-stigmata, some evil-within, curdling.... (Where R we going with this?)

 -Bitterness? Disappointments? -Some blood-clot on the brain/"OUT DAMNED SPOT!?" (The Scottish Play?) Perhaps REVENGE-REGRETS, REVENGE-REGRETS! -WHO will rid us of this Conscience's pestilence that haunts our frail, flitting dreams, no longer valiant as in our Youth, toward the Valley of the "has-beens", Hollywood; our grave already in place... A "Sanctuary of Eternity" until some Dirt Pig bulldozers over/"This is a QUALITY LOT! Did U know...Errol Flynn or Tyronne Power's bones may be "in-turned" beneath your basement? Think of the equity!!!"

...In my time, I have been directed, accepted, flourished in the MEGA-confusion of Our Time. I owned several Vinyl record collections, & at some - poverty - point PAWNED, Guitars! And Guitars like girlfriends, stolen, lost, came & went? Property/Riches, I never cared too much for, just $$$ (the Yankee Dollar), life's benzine, easily addictive, foolishly reaching out for MORE, yet all the while - oblivious-of - dangling from Poetry's meat hook!!! A Devil's dance. A St. Walpurgis Night. It won't be our last. "Puppets on a String!" (Whatever happened to 1960s Songstress Sandie Shaw "sans" footwear?)

ANGELS ABOVE scream & BAT their wings in frustration; that YOU do not OBEY Time/Destiny's universal dictation. For just who R we? Some plankton, a virus on a semi-spherical globe, dancing, a 'la cyclidic-Moon-dance partner. - Frivolous Debutantes, Space-Dressy-Bessy! ("Can U hear me Major Tom!?) No Man is an Island only the bone marrow of a hollow Soul. Like Seamen coursed upon a hidden reef, we scream BLACK HORROR, Sharks' teeth or Lawyers devour the rest.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Truckers, KICKERS & the Cowboy Angels!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix" "Truckers, Kickers & the Cowboy Angels!"

(dedicato: Veterans: Vietnamese, United Nations Forces & U.S.A. Soldiers.)

"Truckers, Kickers & Cowboy Angels."

...HAVE U EVER BEEN TO DISNEY-LAND? No? Me neither. I hear they have huge queues for every RIDE; I'd rather go to Church. Give ME a low-rent Buddy-Weiser BAR (the Red Sox kickin-Ass on big screen T.V.) every time where despondent Truckers, Kickers, Cowboy angels SULK, lonesome & have no Life's wisdom to readily impart 'cept to maybe ask: "Do U know the difference twix Whisky, Bourbon & Rye?" "Yup!" "So, mine's a DOUBLE! Set EM up!!"

...Lost in Purpose, lost in Prose, no "raison d'etre". Have U ever been to DISNEYLAND, Orange County, or F.L.A. to experience/be exposed, FRIED by another's (lesser) Mortals concept Man-Made fantasy? I doubt real fantasy IS an inexact science, less - bells & whistles - a FAIRY atop a Christmas tree, that mistle-toe KISS, as meaningful as a friendly Lawsuit? Still, MOM'S Curry, Fried Rice, Apple Pie will always see U through; dark days R inevitable. (Load up on Kleenex! Wetting the bed, apparently, is no excuse?)

...Not long for this world, a SHROUD, a Vietnam "conflict" (AHEM!!!) HUEY "dust-off" canopies our progress; barstools, spittoons, the baristas name, blind introductions, faces un-remembered, "Chicken wings", "Mirabelle" or just "Joe"? And, finding yourself OUT with the Truckers, the Kickers & the Cowboy Angels & (quoting Gene Parsons/songwriter) "there's a good Saloon in every single town" a blessing might sometimes enshroud U. The ceiling fan, WHIRLING above U. Faulty! It goes "AKA-AKA-AKA!" -U can't go back... That SMUDGE in the sky of dawn's early light. "SET EM UP BUDDY! U got it. Mine's a double!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "I SCREAM-A, U SCREAM-A, WE All Scream-A! - for Ice Cream!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "I Scream-A, U Scream-A, we ALL Scream-A for Ice-Cream!"

..."EVERYBODY'S RIGHT...THAT'S WOT I ALWAYS SAY!"...Sometimes, I even lend them $5.00 for reminding me. Comes OVER like a Media World horror photo U can never ever UN-SEE which cannonballs into your OWN personal (Jesus?) Edvard Munch's painting: The Scream!

(Singing:) "Always wear RAYBANS (Sunglasses) when U fire up your Doobie/Cigarette. U never know if that Bic lighter is gonna light your cigar or enflame your Wig or expensive Toupee! And never fry Bacon for breakfast IN DA NUDE".... No explanations, me-thinks R necessary.; tra-la-whoosits!" (Background Ambulance sirens/Anxious family; "Was it a Mafia-HIT!?).

...AS for ARTISTS (we self-throttle!), a DIAGALEV "Ballet Russ" dancing to a TUNE we will never understand yet a theme upon which we earn our "bread & butter", the Public's adoring gaze under the World-concept grand illusion, Culture's canopy, aloft; we flitter & we fly, a humanoid MOTH zeroing into the flame of Fame.

...Everybody's right. I always say DAT. And YOU, amongst many, the ONLY Woman I ever loved! Heroic, fortune or fame now, perhaps, pickle under your gaze; indolent, indifferent, lethargic, of relegated value? No gilding the Lily under the Klieg-light of eventual wisdom? Maturity, NAY! Old age doesn't take prisoners. Still. What's that Praying Mantis doing, silently, hanging on to your thigh?...

(Singing:) "I scream, U Scream, We ALL scream for Ice-Cream!" (Ain't dat how it goes?)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ARC du TRIUMPH!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ARC du Triumph!"

...THERE'S NO DENYING the WEIGHT, in OUR living memory, the DECADES, that seeping/slow flood of our Loves, friendships, hates, feuds, bickering, scores still to be settled, REGRETS & Blues, like SOUL REFUGEES to wear out sandals, shoes or fashionista "Winkle-Pickers"? (1960s Pointed footwear). A veritable Noah's Ark of memory!

...SALVATION, like a Las Vegas highway-roadside billboard to tempt an ailing Soul to divest his/her Life's potential, promise, riches, lonesome treasure, all U can pack into an airline-travel "wheelie-bag", like a protest/defense, a sword of JUSTICE which ALL invisible citizens, these days, can honorably still wield? Your bags wheels "mutter-mumble" on airport corridors as U advance headlong towards an un-certain - flight cancellation - destination?

...EMPORERS, kings, figureheads, in retrospect, histories' detritus, from Julius Caesar to J.F.K., to GANDHI! Recorded (?) upon Carrera marble or woven into a Bakara RUG to soak up some cultural big-shot's blood. And a funeral train. Soldiers, politicians, profiteers, women in weeps, sallow, some with heads held high, they too march, resolute: VICTA-VICTORI towards that Arc du Triumph, a seat of darkness where Angels are apt to vacuum its proximity.

...When, lastly U R "conveyed" in all pomp & glory upon the "Via Sacre" towards an ARC du TRIUMPH, even your Spirit, hovering above, is resigned to fading trumpets, that fickle/forgetting focus of the multitudes, and the inevitable "Ubliete", that un-knowing ZONE of your finite destiny which AFTER U R gone don't mean a Fig, nor whether the creek don't rise or your Noah's Ark is destroyed in shallows or the hidden coral reefs of destiny's un-certainty!

...(Singing:) "There's NO business like SHOW business! -TRA-LA-LA!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

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

...IT'S A TOUGH "MO-JO!" full knowing U've GROUD your (Writers') metaphors into dust? LIFE is an INTERDIT, a one-way street, a "cul-de-sac" and, indeed, fate or destiny, a passage du VIE! So, U give whatever cash on hand to the local street-orphan: "Go hit the Liquor store, Kid. Get me what I need."

...It's a TOUGH "Mojo" when U feel U have lost, a-kin to some un-wielding TWEEZERS extracting your inner-soul, suddenly EXPOSED like a shaven head on the Guillotine...just seconds before.

...It's a "MOJO" fondly remembered once in a Springtime's early light. U skipped the light-fandango, U knew how to fight! Where-as NOW the Soul still whispers, there's still a glint in your eye? A souvenir from when the world was your oyster, an array of pearls in your smile.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA MOON in DA MIST!"

 Our Man in Europe/now in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Da Moon in Da Mist!"

...The Moon in the Mist, that "lazy eye", a patched over retina, a not-very clever espionage Spy conveying UN-deciphered/UN-decoded, a message - it's in Morse code -: "The night is long that never finds the day, yet dimly to light a traveler's way?"

 (Whad-ya-make O dat!?) "Our Man in Havana is off his Rocker!!?"

-"Hmmm. Schooled at ETON. Played Cricket for the "Gentlemen" at Cambridge? I put him up for membership at my Club for heaven's sake!"

"Which one?"

 "All 3! WHITES, The Diogenes & the DRONE Club."

"Was he accepted?' "

"Alas, as yet not a peep & the Drone Club is dragging its feet..."

...(GET "JU-JU!!!"): DA MOON in DA MIST, a Delphi-Oracle, a Religio-Cult Slot machine, the longer U play, the more investment, the more Theological confusion! -An eternity, leastways, generation on generation, a MYOPIC on-going game begetting Wars, savagery, as the body count never wanes till even ICEBERGS are worth fighting over, till they dissolve into the sea?

"I fear for our British Diplomatic Corp.."

"Minister, U have good reason."

"How so?"

"The latest data on International Diplomatic Corps POKER tournaments show the Chinese on top, the Americans non-plussed, the British too cheap to Up the Ante & when the Russians feel cheated, they bash the opponent on the head & run off with the Ante!!!"

"That's definitely not CRICKET!"

"Quite so, Minister."

...Da Moon in Da Mist. With "lazy eye", a Child's eye, yet still a Witness! The Blakean symmetry in a Tyger's eye. A dauntless fermenting, like the yeast in the air, ever ready to pronounce a thing apparently NOT THERE to curry a mischief, a Gunpowder Plot, till some Lunar event exposes the lot! So, wear Safari-Whites, a plinth helmet, a monocle or 2 & colonize your mind if NEED-BE & suffer your Soul. As for DA MOON in DA MIST, recall your last loving kiss, a "lazy-eye" after-all it's what we R. In the mist of the moon, fragile, we linger.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "In the JADE of the Night."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "In the JADE of the Night."

...IN DA JADE OF DA NIGHT when regrets cloud your dreams & nightmares propound every altruistic Thought; that luncheon Oyster, finding a pearl in your gaze? -A metaphysical, an Eye-witness-CHAIN, thus, subpoenaed in the Court of Love in the Jade of Love's Courtroom, in the HAMMER-HORROR, the Jade of the Night? -Where Angels fear to tread, for that matter, even LAWYERS!

...Nobody's Guilty! Innocence? -A JOKE! Nobody's phony, got a PONY? -Some joke. A racing Heart's SPENT or never RAN! -in a culture, a system, a social registrar, religious/racial inter-mingling: ALLES VERBOTEN!!! In a solemn Heart's COURT, no Prisoners! -It Takes! A predilection invented by "JU-JU-MEN" who insist on body mutilation: sever your Vaginal CLITORIS or lop off your Penal FORESKIN! It's MANDATORY! U MUST be LAME & LIMP like WE!!!?

 ...ALL DONE of course in THEIR Jade of the Night, a 'la that Scottish Plays' WITCHES-3! -Encircled by the green eye of envy, succinct prejudice, racism, JEALOUSLY, a universal epiphany TRAMPLED under Ignorance's mindless boot! When, in the Court of Love the Heart hangs the mind or equally, when the mind enslaves the Heart? All alas, in this ONE case, smacks of gender-equality & is fair & foul in this, the Jade of the Night.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Internet-LONELY HEARTs Club BAND!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "THE INTERNET LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND!"

...The Internet-Lonely Hearts Club Band as HENRY the HORSE will dance the Waltz, of course! -or on a Aberdonian (Scottish) whistle-stop note, a SHARRAH-BANG magical mystery tour, stopping at the local granite quarry advising magical mystery-tourists, there's a "Tam-O-Shanty" at the bottom? Hence the big Quary! He's still digging for the Shilling he lost last Wednesday? (...in 1903).

...The Internet Lonely Hearts Club Band, forever INEPT, that desperado "UN-GENE-E-CITY", albeit a cerebral inner violence necessity, a late-nights texting-MASTURBATES until sleep overtakes? (Stay with me!) As for Henry the Horse? Who, these days dances a Waltz?... In Satellite ORBIT, even THEY, those "A.I" pieces of HI-TECH METAL R getting overloaded with "diatribe"/outta-space graffiti; Human Pathos! No wonder "A.I." doesn't need us anymore? "A.I." POEM: "I wondered lonely in Outta SPACE; I Laser-Beamed those Assholes in Manhattan-Kansas!!!" (Maybe NOW I can get some A.I. "Aggieville" sleep?).

..."I THINK, therefor I AM!" (Descartes/French Philosopher). The Internet Lonely Hearts Club Band; those hollow, lonely, desperate voices within the INTERNET CLOUD who might be STALKERS, jilted Lovers, outright SCAMMERS or the LONELY, desperately, needy, jealous of your flagrant vivacity which BLOW-TORCHES the non-existential inadequacy of SO MANY, mostly STRANGERS whom U cannot comfort - Quit Texting Me! - nor wish to feed.... Keep your Musket powder dry, compose a Suicide note, in INK, Eloquent. The Internet Lonely Hearts Club Band alas, like "Tam-O-Shanty" still down in the Quarry looking for his lost (1903) Shilling, me-thinks, our CEREBRAL-FORGETTING is ever circling!... I got no advice?...

Still! In the meantime? ...DRINK UP & BE SOMEBODY!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "To Kill a Woodpecker!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "To Kill a Woodpecker!"

(Après, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.)

"To Kill a Woodpecker."

...TO KILL A WOODPECKER (PUNK-ROCK BIRDIE!) IT TAKES Bureaucrats, Tax-collectors, Airport-Immigration-Nazis, maybe your - Time-keeping - BOSS in your job who prods/chips away at your DIGNITY like "Kleine" Austrian Corporals, Adolf Hitler; give Em half a chance, like a spider emerging from some dark corner who R apt to devour or order: "Quit drinking/polish your Franz Kafka shoes! Make SENSE of all your Blues!!!"

But I got nuttin' to worry about - in "The Castle" or "On Trial!" - which, strangely disturbs me. I got no gold-digging Babee hoping for a wedding ring. Somehow, I gotta KEY to the CITY in everyone's eye! Maybe it's (AHAH!) the money!? -That Hollywood envy, that 1,000 yard - "hello-goodbye" -stare; a PLAYER! A dude who no longer NEEDS to be there!

I got a "Moon over Sunset" (Boulevard), a kind-a meandering/winding freeway that billboard-backdrops your stepping-stone illusions of Fame OR a girl & boy in a famous poise, a symmetry, yet still out of reach, underground? -I ZIG-ZAG/WE ZIG-ZAG un-knowing. It's a perchance, a style that WE have. Witnesses, always fallible! Was he wearing Plaid or Blue? F. Scott Fitzgerald noted Success/Fame is an opiate/absolute greed; Hollywood is over-loaded with "Has-beens", that Hotel California, cliches just bleed!

I got nuttin' to worry about. It really OUGHT to piss me off! For ONCE I got NO money worries which, quite candidly, makes me laugh! Yet, RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT!!!...I still peck at the Tree that gave me Life. As for the Mockingbird, the COCK'S CROW at dawn, the Typewriter drill of a Woodpecker, Nature's witness-observance of our Human Folly is unlikely to go away as freedom from necessity spirals into a Mind's unfathomed labyrinth...A Life spent. A Life wasted. The night is long that never finds the day.

"RAT-ATAT-TAT-TAT!!!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Mad Dogs & Englishmen."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Mad Dogs & Englishmen."

...THERE'S A CONCEPT IN MAH POCKET; there's an IDEA in my MAH HEAD? -The kind of, a "nature" that leads to true love or death? There's a Wish upon a Star, a memory that hasn't warped U too estranged -a benevolent smile so far, an altruistic/intelligent mental gyro?

There's a journey U completed, a high wind to Jamaica, destiny-Un-fathomed, a labyrinth of Sinew tangled up like wire that complexes our Reason, lost in an Islam Minaret's Cultish call to prayer - 5 times per day -; church bells ring pretty much sing the same song for fools & horse on par with Mad Dogs & Englishmen who - in tropic-climes - go out in the Mid-Day sun.

And all DEM GREEK GODS/GODDESSES who dally in the Mystic heavens R/will NOT be satisfied on NO account sympathize for this Earthly love which - singularly -U have found? Let the GODS/Prophets fight amongst themselves, turn off your Hi-tech-media, let us prevail FAR from the madding crowd? (Silence is Golden?)

There's a MINDE, a pocket full of miracles, a scattering of Diamonds in your head in that - always daunting - terrifying though lonely realm, that EDEN U have courageously discovered, full-knowing, to be sure: Earthy-LOVE can bravely stand its ground.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...YOU DIED WHEN U WERE YOUNG, re-incarnated as U got OLD. Your valiant, those symbols of your Youth like trophies (GUITARS?) hung, gathering dust upon your bedroom walls...

... U disappeared when Love was strong, broken hearts U left behind IN SEARCH: El Dorado, a "Treasure Isle", navigation-confounded, a GIG no-one can Dice?

U DIED when U were Young, most folks DO & in-between U just GOT OLD, a Story, Regrets, nor confess to?

BEER: $54 (Crate)

VODKA: $39,

BUTTER: $10,00.

EGGS: $3.00.

Ans SO your Story's is told!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "UN-CUT DIAMONDS!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "UN-CUT DIAMONDS!"

(dedicato: Reese Muuligan.)

"Un-cut Diamonds."

...Un-cut Diamonds, un-cut diamonds; your friends maybe now long since dead & gone? The thieves within your Friend-Soul's groove which in your BOOGALOO U cannot but, in memory, cherish, somehow for ever more? (No one considers themselves a FOOL, but your Altruism - a Genetic tool? - keeps your Pride intact?) Friends-Friends! 2 Years at most? Most friends die or give up the ghost! The ones who owe U money even sooner!

They came & went, a shoulder to cry on, their couch to crash on, a needy loan, a Buddy U could rely on? Their desperate, lonely sense of survival; may be U brought them joy, leastways, something U could offer them back? A GIG, a night on the town. Or an insight into whatever it was that made them feel like Outsiders? (Money in Youth is always tight!)

UN-CUT Diamonds who sparkle, DAZZLE your progress, your love of youthful life making every new day feel like FOREVER or at least something U ORIGINATED...till the money went South? (Penury. A Conquistador's epiphany: EL DORADO! Ponce de Lyons Fountain of Youth does not exist!?) WHO QUARRIES the mind for Life's splendors? That BORN-WITH or HOLLYWOOD LOTTO kiss? Still, LOVE makes dancing fools of us all.

Un-cut diamonds: Friendships, brotherhoods, cliques or Clans, those PERCIEVED Kings/Queens advancing without a Plan where-in U FOLLOW: "For England & ST. GEORGE!" (Just WHO WAS St. George?) -to faithfully follow into battle/Life's adversities, faithful yet blindly without knowing? There's a DIAMOND in everyone's head, but mostly it's sleeping, UN-CUT but awaiting that Day - Boys & Girls! -when it's Yours... (And YES!!! Meantime? It's COOL to get CRAZY!).

Un-cut diamonds. Like worthless pebbles on the seashore. Issac Newton (Gravity Dude) noted it's where we ARE and BEYOND there so much to live for, so MUCH to learn & in a "nutshell" there is FOR US - Get ya Boots on! - so much more!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Ex-Mombasa-Kenya/Africa/Dave Delacroix: "MALAIKA!" (Angel)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Ex-Mombasa-Kenya/Africa/Dave Delacroix: "Malaika!" (Angel.)

(This famous Kenyan Song I barbarously but lovingly translate for ALL our noble East African friends. ...Kenyan SWAHILLI language as HERE in Belize, the CREOLE language does not readily translate into English, nor retro perfecto! This/MY BLOG is famous for abusing PROPER ENGLISH - my fellow BRITS/Carrots stuck up their Upper-Class-Orientated-Systemic Literary ASS, I can only commiserate with for their ANAL evolutionary-prevailing Non-Lingua-Vision! "Alas poor Yorick!" -Dannish Bacon?)

"Malaika!" (Angel.).

..."Malaika (Angel), MakUpenda, Malaika! Malaika, makupenda Malaika! Angel, I love U, I would MARRY U? "Ningekuoa-dadda!" I would marry U. Not deterred by your lack of Fortune? I would marry U.

...Money... is troubling my Soul and I, your young Lover, what can I do? But not dismayed by lack of fortune I would marry U: Malaika! Makupenda Malaika.

Little Bird? I dream of U. Little bird and I, your young lover, what can I do? But not defeated by lack of Fortune, I would marry U any way, my Malaika. Oh, my love my Malaika, makupenda-Malaika!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GOLD-BLINGER!!!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "GOLD-BLINGER!!!"

(après maestro John Barry's "James Bond" movie soundtrack: "Goldfinger".)

"GOLD-BLINGER!!!"

...GOLD-BLINGER! (WHA-WHA-BOOM!) He's dat CAT who don't give a damn 'bout U?...His Bling is COLD!

 GOLD-BLINGER! (WHA-WHA-BOOM!) -Who'll eat Caviar, or drink Champagne out of your high heel shoes...& never pay the Bill? He got NO Soul!

 -GOLD-BLINGER (WAH-WAH-BOOM!) -will sign your personal cheques & then scat faraway to groovy-groovy groove? DIS CAT is Bold!

(WHA-WHA-WHA-WAH-BOOM!)

,,,HE may come across AS SO SMOOTH but when he's on the MOOCH, he's got a heart of BLING & your lonely heart is HIS Song? Pretty girls, his meat? Fast cars, Monte Carlo, Las Vegas ...& Pussy galore? -U get Left Mummified in his Bling!?

GOLD-BLINGER!!! (Wah-WAH-BOOM!!!) Playing roulette, expect to be bled, a sacrifice & it seems U R willing to lose? - just for a touch of his "Bling"? DAT'S his thing?

 Gold Blinger! Gold-Blinger! (WHA-WHA-WHA-BOOM!) -for a LIFE U once longed. Your song is your Song is your Song. Now lost: His BLING is COLD!!!

GOLD-BLINGER!!! (WAH-WAH-BOOM!) GOLD BLINGER!!!! (WAH-WAH-BOOM!) GOLD-BLINGER!!! (WAH-WAH-BOOM!) ....just U.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Mullets, Abstinence & Foot-Dangling!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Mullets, Abstinence & Foot-Dangling!"

(dedicato: Anne-Marie Yaccbucci)

...MULLETS, ABSTINENCE & FOOT DANGLING never got anybody anywhere but R SURE to change your World. The MULLET (hairstyle) takes - from SKINHEAD - a good month to cultivate where-as FOOT-WHOOSITS, pretty much immediate! The obstinate quorum of ABSTINENCE? -Sometimes your promontory left leg spasmodically climbs - without warning - up atop your right-side desk drawer! The "Office Bottle", bottom left-hand drawer laps UP your addiction full knowing it'll win the War!

...Mullets, abstinence, foot dangling, twix the THREE, a choice never takes too long. "I am not in Love?" (Joan Armatrading song). Persuasion? U-BETCHA!!! S-why I'm goin' for a Mullet! -Making your Mark these days lasts only a nano-second, a fingernail of FAME away. "Did HE who (Wm. Blake Poem) make the Lamb make thee?" In a TYGER's EYE, the Mullet, maybe. Stripes? Certainly. But at THIS point in your, ahem! -Dynamic? No stars in your eyes. Hence, opting for a Mullet?

Mullets, etc., what SEAT upon your GIG must rest? AFRO, DREADLOCKS, MOHICKAN, Mr. SMOOTHIE & that's just for the folks who've got some forelocks left!? As for spasmodic Foot-Dangling attacks, making love with your Babe, don't get TOO erected - someone might get injured! - & as for Abstinence, that's always for some later day.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Death in the Afternoon."

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Death in the Afternoon."

...BURNT BRIDGES & BROKEN HEARTS we abuse our TIME in search of Fame or Glory! (U fell off a cliff? -Death by "Selfie!"?) Burnt bridges, broken hearts & now NO yesterdays, no one to help U, no EDEN where-to return. Worst STILL, no "Besties!" (Actual Friends): Heartbreaking: The INTERNET ignores U!!! After 6 months FACEBOOK freezes your Page! (Black Arm-band Situ.) An ever-diminishing Mathematica, a Theroux's-Paradox to stamp upon your dead face: 4 X 4 =4 (?) Something like DAT. DEAD! It's of no concern of yours. A distant relative I.D.s your "I love ROCKY" forearm Tattoo in the morgue.

So! Arrivederci-Babee, no more Facebook birthday salutes? E-Mail debunked. Your Myspace/Twitter? Lost in the Cloud! The stuff of future Pscyber-space Archaeologist's IF it's OF INTEREST re. your ISSUES/your VIEWS/"Selfies" of U standing by the Eifel Tower? (Falling off a Cliff?) "Yup! Saw DAT coming!!!" A destiny/trajectory of a Life "goin' South". But don't (Ahem!) think in the "after-life" U can kick-start the FIRST "After-Life.com Blog." THAT hasn't happened yet. Don't think they got WI-FI up there/down there?

Still. Maybe SOMEONE - in REAL Life - along the way will remember/recognize the VALOUR it took to FORGE your way? But mostly, conveniently, U R swept away "a 'la" MEMORIES BROOM, your cohorts' R content to live their own quiet life & happily OFFLINE? But unlikely. SO many - OUT-WEBBED/Poverty-struck - WEB INFLUENCERS have now resorted to smuggling DRUGS! One, recently busted, sentenced to Hanging, big tits & all! (Bangkok-Boogie!) Aged 25. Was that YOU!?

Burnt bridges, broken hearts, no sigh of remorse; what drives this filament, a flickering light to its sticking post? A Cancerous Cell, yet ever ready to BLOAT: The Yorkist, King Richard III MURDERS boy Princes in the Tower; no Nightingale sang at HIS 11th hour. As for Yours?... Perhaps a tad "misdemeanor", comparatively? "JAY-WALKING! -The early years -News/Views & just how I coped?" will RIVET U into sleep! "Failed attempts at Shoplifting" yet another Blog/Influencer Baddaboom!? PURSE-NA-LY I'm considering a new Blog: "The ART of DOING NOTHING!"  Plenty of research involved of course. A work still in progress!

Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing, the corner shop, the small-town high-street footfall attractions, singular Book outlets, Music shops/L.P. s! -some Cats kicking off their own Art Gallery, the Juggler/clown on the sidewalk, chased off by Cops: "ALLES VERBOTEN!" Not to mention AS a Mariachi/Busker/Street musician I owe decades of my LIFE to Public Street - now regularly prohibited - freedom? Cops/Inspectors (?), Street patrols ready to give U a Ticket/pocket your hard earnt Change? Baden-Baden, Augsburg in Germany come to mind? & in my early days, 1970s on the London Underground! No Prisoners! They'd bully/steal U blind!

...Yup! Sad Songs. No shortage. And burnt bridges, UN-forgiven, more-so, broken hearts & all division, the light & the dark BONFIRES your gloom, as death comes too soon for ALL the guilty of heart for death in the afternoon. For only TRUE LOVE will blossom under the moon & at the 11th hour it will tear We Sad-Saps Souls apart! -Like a brave Bull fighting Matador now bereft of "afficion"! The mirror-cracked, our earliest self-conscious reflection.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Space-Cadets, Cougars & Harridans!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Space-Cadets, Cougars & Harridans!"

(dedicato: Dan Randolph)

"Space-Cadets, Cougars & Harridans!"

...PEOPLE R STRANGE WHEN U R a STRANGER, they skip to a dance U don't understand. People R strange, sometimes WICKED, not knowing the World they think they Command!

WHEN U R STRANGE! - A Los-Angelese basin full of HAS-BEENS & LOSERS? When U R Strange? Best U get OUT of that Hollywood rain! (SO, I DID!!)

People R BI-POLAR. Nuttin' wrong wiv' DAT! I am too. My Valet's the only one who knows how to tie my shoes. People get crazy when I RAGE at the Moon. Poor suckers, never to know, Bi-polar syndrome & enjoined with Dementia, alas mental CHAOS comes all too soon.

And AS the Cocaine-Special Flight flies above over my Corozal Villa en-route to Caye-Caulker/San Pedro to moist, excite Gringo tourist's nasal inner-tubes? Is this the place (Belize) where GRINGO train-wrecks need to come? A splendid example! SICK Christian Missionaries, ISLAMISTS subjecting INNOCENTS, Natives, to their imbecility: SIN!? Thy Name is Faith!!! (Beam me Up Scotty!)

...And People get SADLY, people get happy, a tropic Belizean paradise? Yet Space-Cadets, Cougars & Harridans w/frail consorts, Tee shirts & shorts, tread furtively thru sargasso stinking seaweed, only that sandy beach smile to semi-restore the Promise on where they've retreated, a Stranger's shore. As for the Word of GOD (?) - Prophets Up the WAZZEE! Quit preaching. Leave the INNOCENTS to their Culture & stick your diatribe into that dark place, look at your ASS, no G.P.S. required! (Happy Jesus-hour!)

People R Strange when U R a Stranger, they skip to a dance U don't understand. People R strange, sometimes wicked not knowing a World that they think THEY command. Whilst Space-Cadets, aging-Cougars & Harridans drain/circle into their inevitable sticking post. An Oubliette of insignificance, wrong or right in a Universe of indifference, WOTCHAGONNA-DO! when some solar METEORITE comes zoomin in on U!? (Let me guess? U say:) :"OH MAH GOD! OH MAH GOD!" Perhaps before IMPACT - U won't have a lot of time? YUP! U'll either start dancing the POGO, flailing your arms-about or get to feeling justifiably blue.

c.2026. Dave Delaccroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Below the Salt!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Below the Salt."

(In Medieval times, most notably - in Renaissance paintings - the 1100s thru 1500s, SALT -"SALE" from ROMAN times was traded/Roman Soldiers in far flung provinces, Britain to Syria counted it SALARY/Soldier's PAY - along with Beer, Wine, ergo SALT was a currency, the possession OF -a status symbol & a pre-refrigeration food preservative hence its value. So! ABOVE the Salt at banquets, SEATED, U were somebody/Emperors/Kings/Nobility. BELOW the salt, hired hands, Condotierri/hired mercenaries or Palace/Castle lackies, courtly jesters/professional FOOLS/entertainers, lucky to get invited but BELOW the Salt U were seated! A Baron's Hounds or the Castle Cats would fight U for your Master's discarded pork-hock or Chicken wing!) 

 FY.I.: A 1960s UK band STEELEYE SPAN, music on Utube celebrate in Song this early class system/cultural, social distinction & prejudice... "Below the Salt." A fine folk-rock LP/CD recording!

"Below the Salt." (Nothing's changed!)

...IF IT DON'T RAIN & THE CREEK DON'T RISE or the Cow jumped over da Moon? If your DEVIL don't shine or U don't get lost in the Wine, in "Vino-Veritas" (Splurge the truth?) & say: "I... love... U? AND, if it comes to THAT, DO WE in fact opt to eat the Lean yet happily WALLOW in the Fat; just whose Song R we singing in the end? A Chanson by French Poet Francois Villon: "Ou's sans les Neige d'antan?" Or, roughly translated: "Who da frick moved mah CHEESE!!!"

...BUURRRRT...IF it DON'T rain (stay with me) & DA CREEK don't rise nor the Cow, jumping over the Moon, at a courtly banquet, that distinct pecking order, BELOW the Salt, still finds us there-in enthroned! A fate of fates for ALL must wait, R.S.V.P., as in Life, sometimes "below the Salt" is required. Whilst in Paintings, on Tapestries a Minstrel in the gallery U can well guess probably captures the hour? ("It's LOL been a hard day's night!) Chinese/Curry take-a-ways yet still to be invented? (Dickensian FAGEN: "SHADDUP KIDS & DRINK YA GIN!") Satire-cynicism always lurks in the Well of a decent Broth?

 ...Funny HOW that works? Below the Salt? Seems WE ACTUALLY have the best of it all despite fighting over the Royal/Imperial scraps? Where-as ABOVE/High Table SALT conspiracies thrive; poisonings, a dagger in the back? (Thomas Wyatt, Poet, 1503-1542:) "CIRCA REGNA TONAT" Latin for: "Around the Throne the thunder rolls!" BELOW the Salt WE at least get SOME nourishment without fear of psychopathic (Henry VIII) King Harry's AXE, Caesre Borgia's Machiavellian Salads or TODAYS Powers that Be? (Keeping your head DOWN just might be the key?)

And (Tra-la-la!) if don't rain & the creek don't rise, the Cow, a symbol of happiness/contentment jumping over the moon? Better that than poisoned mutton served as lamb? So below the Salt & a long life to YA!... And don't U go worrying Fate for sure enough: It's ON the make if it don't RAIN & the creek? - U got it! - don't rise. Enjoy your Feed & like jolly good Gentlemen of olden days, rest easy in your beds. Below the Salt is NOT such a bad place to be!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in MONEY/OOPS! /In EUROPE/Dave Delacroix: "...Walk this way before."

 Our Man in MONEY/OOPS! /In Europe/Dave Delacroix: "...Walk this way before!"

(Song.)

...Money in my pocket but it won't last long? -I've walked this way before. Photo of a GIRL in a chain locket, does she know the score?

SO many times, U've walked my way? So many words we never say; tomorrow & tomorrow but never name the Day & walk this way before.

...Say U'll be THERE but never come I've SEEN this place before. Barely walk but promise to RUN & run & run & run.

"Ich liber dich!" -but somehow miss the magic U embrace?... I never wanna walk this way again; please walk & walk away.

Money in my pocket but it won't last long, I've walked this way before. Photo of a Lady in a chain locket; does she know the score? And so many times you've walked my way, so many words we never say, tomorrow & tomorrow but never name the Day & walk this way before. And walk this way before.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ZENITH of your Zoom!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The ZENITH of your Zoom!"

...THE ZENITH OF YOUR ZOOM, how did it begin, a time when OUR Love filled the room "dans le Champs d'Elyese" when, fashionista U wore flowers in your hair, adapted Elton John stack-heeled shoes to elevate/promenade your "raison-d'Etre", a GIG most mere Mortals can only dream of? "Caviar, le déjeuner, Cognac/Cafe-Noir. C'est Soir?" (Easy on the Dijon mustard when we're kissing!)

How does it begin? A Mandrake root plucked from the womb/SCREAMING? Or a CHILDHOOD inner-thrust within your Soul or GOD-GIVEN-DIAMONDS in your CEREBRALISM, "avec" sometimes, UMBILIC, fatally UN-decided TO BE U on ITS own volition decide to Un-wind, (ENCORE!) failed Love, failed ambition, a self-addressed appalling cacophony of disillusion, an epiphany too late to un-wind the turning of Life's SCREW!? (Escargot? No problem, Sweetie-Pie! Easy on the Garlic!)

(Singing: "AH MET mah Million Dollar Babee at the (Le Cafe) FIVE & DIME!!!) (In New YORK?) Relax! Nothing on this subject is likely to make sense?

A veritable Classic perception. Far from an Impressionist's work. Manet, Monet; a SEURAT, or more blatant, the painting, THE KISS - full of Gold, Silver; the Austrians not only produced Adolf Hitler but GUSTAV KLIMT! Perhaps an inevitable potpourri of the Zenith of your ZOOM, likewise, as for Love? - a doom/ZOOM!? 

Within or without for the Love that once filled your room? Un-prepared, we sit on fates fragile throne, just plain destiny: Why is it we always arrive too soon? (Boulebais? Yes. Occasionally there ARE compensations!) Most folk I know R in need of a Spoon!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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.