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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

"Life on a Sweet Roll."

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. dave delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: Carol Marie Aniello.)

"Some of these days."

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(Dedicato: Ken & Tammy)

"BARBI-Q!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Guys! Has this ever happened to YOU?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I still hear U through the wire!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Robbing (Saint) PETER to pay (Saint) Paul

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(A Song!)

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

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

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

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

v.2026/Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

"GIVE ME 5!!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The ICE WALL!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: Brian Pavlic.)

"Test-Tackles!"

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

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

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

(No-one will EVER learn of course:) 

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

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

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

"Pontius Pilot."

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026.Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2o26, Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

"North by North-West!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

"THE BUSKER!"

(dedicato to Sylvie in Freiburg/Germany.)

"The BUSKER!"

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

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.  

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

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

(dedicato: Sarah B. Solo.)

"Catfish on the Bone."

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix (Double Agant!)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DEAD MEN don't darn their socks in the night."

 Our Man in Europe/now residing in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DEAD MEN don't darn their socks in the night!"

...DEAD MEN DON'T darn their socks in the night! Dead men don't darn their own, or anybody else's socks in the night! -They just wallow in a casket of Bloody Mary breakfast-cocktail mix; easy on the tomato juice - too much, makes the Vodka go bad - a stick of celery, quite unnecessary especially if your Tom juice is replaced by a can of V-8! A splash of Lemon; Worcestershire (WHUSTER!) sauce but of course!

DEAD MEN don't masturbate, post-wake jamboree. Your personal "Lancelot" is the first thing to say "Sayonara!" It drops off. Whilst HAIR, supposing U weren't Telly Savalas or Yul Bryner (Actors/quite bald) & finger/toenails grow GANGBUSTERS in search of that heavenly pedicure or Holy manicure, respectfully at a "Salon-Ponce du Lyon" the fountain of lost Youth.

DEAD MEN are bereft of jokes, even professional Stand-Up Comedians! "Have U heard the joke about the dead guy? No? Me neither!"... Nuttin' funny bout death whether U (Russian K.G.B. assisted) fell out of 6-storey high window, slipped on a banana skin, got munched on by a Tiger shark or mashed in the gears of a combined-harvester!

Still... DEAD MEN of course R pretty picky bout their Wardrobe; Pin Stripes or PLAID they STILL show up at St. Peter's gate trying not to look too needy. But like Father Mckenzie (Beatles song/All the Lonely People) Dead Men never get to darn their socks or anyone else's in that eternal night.

...Funny how that works?..

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Twilight Zone."

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

...OUR OWN PERSONAL TWILIGHT zone! (Reach out & touch me!) ... Sometimes I wonder...I'm Bi-polar and apparently have "ADDO" (attention deficit disorder?) "ADDO!?". Anyways, sometimes I wonder - like we do - R. U. really there? (R.U. THERE!) a 'la a prism in aspic; got to wonder if I'm there/here too? Is there anybody there: No. 9, No.9, No 9!? (Ringo Star).

THOUGHT-cachets trouble the mind when U. R. feeding the cats or just trying to un-wind from being a witness to this World of troubles; that legitimacy of mind in dire need of a good attorney? Altruism or the moral high ground doesn't stand a chance twix Neo-Fascism or Islamic zealots. At some point REASON weakens, U oil & polish your M16 & gotta come out fighting. Don't doubt it! "Peace in our Time" is an illusion.

Sometimes I wonder if WRONG might just be RIGHT, Port-Starboard, Day is Crystal-night, a leering fright, a kiss-hello, a kiss-goodbye in our OWN personal twilight zone: REACH OUT!!! And touch me...Less we forget, all our Soldier boys who came/sacrificed before.

Is there anybody there? LONDON CALLING: No.9, No.9, No.9! The Twilight Zone. (Ringo Star).

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...IT AIN'T ALL BAD BEING the "Village Idiot". The Medieval locals douse U with their excrement (Shit!) or pelt U with rotten fruit, arraying U in the village scaffold-stocks, whilst free to roam their kids hound U like it's "open season" on ALL aspects of humanity that confound or fail to conform? There's "V.I." or an OUTSIDER in everyone. Some hide it; some spit in the wind? And "Woe to the Vanquished!", but U can't KILL what the dumb masses fail to understand? "V.I."s DO disturb! 

It's NOT the worst fate to be considered, the town drunk or the Village Idiot? Show some intelligence -U get summoned/invited to the Royal Court...to BE a King's "Fool"! U get to be Liverpool F.C./Manchester United, top of the League! An appointment, a Village Idiots HOLY GRAIL, that gig of gigs where it's koshered to utter absurdities that is rewarded with Cakes & Ale, no fear of reprimand or that pesky AXE, your vocal-flippant treason- nor London-Tower-on-the-Hill execution!

Being an official buffoon is not the worst of fates. It's not ALL bad delivering that light-prism of a Frank Zappa poem/tune (Cosmic Debris?) And yes, people will talk, thus your legend is secure: "Alas poor Yorick! That Clown from Shakespeare's Hamlet. And less we forget the legendary misfit who haunted the bell tower of Paris's Notre Dame! No cakes & ale, sometimes, historically, a persecution song. Whilst up above, the ANGELS (should they actually exist:) DO the "Hokey-Koike" & dance with U in your Village Idiot mist.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix-Esquire: "BABY-DOLL!!!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "BABY-DOLL!"

...BABY! I DIDN'T "diss" U. I was brain-naked, out-clothed/out-classed; no Milano-psycho, no Yakuza-kamikaze! I was ELECTRIC, in a place no-one else can understand. Whether I'd crash in Dubai or Pakistan, my cerebral debris, scattered/littered across the Sahara: A HAFIZ Persian Poet poem? A Love Prophet, quite simply, gone emotional "fiddle-E-Dee!" (It happens!)

BABY! I didn't DISS U. On the road to Damascus! I was a-la BLUES BROTHERS on a Mission from God: S-hard to explain? -A Guitar player/Mariachi looking for that lost chord...& on a 12 string (guitar) U need 3 competent Rockstar ROADIES to assist/several dedicated GROUPIES, optional! Supergroup/famous Bands; Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Black Sabath, cultural predators leave wakes of broken souls? Rolling Stones DO in fact gather moss. It's just never reported!

BABY! I didn't DISS U. I broke my ankle (drunk as usual), the LIMO ran out of gas, an old buddy arrived from out of town, I needed to PAWN my "Gibson Les Paul", my sister got arrested at the Barracuda Club (London). I had to fly over there & bail her out? Stupidity, never short of consequences! The SEVEN WONDERS of who we R" Greed, Envy, Jealousy", just 3 out of 7 to name?

BABEE! (An after thought) I was just slouching down main street, Joplin-Missouri minding my own abstract business. Actually, I was getting my "load on" in some lonesome C/W Bar composing all my excuses 'bout just WHERE WE could/should-a been, but knowing OURSELVES, better we'd reach out for the stars! And now we live with our illusions or get saturated in LOW PLACES, acting out, some private Idaho SOOO faraway from where we belong.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Place in the Sun."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "A Place in the Sun."

(dedicato: Le Marquis, Jean De'Bats.)

"A Place in the Sun."

...A PLACE IN THE SUN, a dimmed/Raybans-sunglasses/polluted sky or some vellum-bright, the one that burnt (Impressionist Painter) DEGAS's eyes/irises enforcing a 2nd career of miniature bronze sculptures of Ballerinas-immobile yet in their epoch majesty...

A place in the Sun... what issue, what dynamic carves your destiny, like Icarus soaring but with wings of WAX, a predestined "Skyfall" (James Bond movie?) or Sisyphus, another Greek legend/the Greeks/historically OWN the franchise! Sisyphus, silly man, the original (Beatles song:) "Nowhere Man", UP-Hill! forever to labor: Keep your eye on the ball: GRAVITY is All! Rolling stones?

A place in the Sun, a maelstrom-Heart, alas, finding nothing at all except a one-way ticket to Palookaville, possibly to foster an epic monologue, "To Bleed or not to Bleed, that is the question!", an abstract epiphany a-waiting until U R "done & dusted". That tumbleweed moment when the saloon piano dude quits playing & flies-a-buzzing, circling round the ceiling fan...drop dead to the floor!

A place in the Sun. A battle un-won! Faint heart never won, never won fair maiden. There's actually NO NEED to go out and MURDER some-one? (Monty Clift movie?)  Jesus!!! A place in the Sun? No worries, Kids. DO NOT DISPAIR!!! There's always Whisky in the JAR-O!!! And as dark as the inside of a Texas-Steers BUTT on a moonless night, it's no crime to come out fighting...for your own personal-Jesus, the right to stand up & ZORRO your Life into the Light. ...A place, a kind of Loving, for YOU...your place in the Sun.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix (Also in his "undercover" name, David Michael Oxley - old family name on Facebook): "Les Belles de Paris!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/A.K.A. David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "Les Belles du Paris!" (Après poem by Francois Villon/1400s-dude.)

"Les Belles de Paris!"

...DEM GALS LOVE THEIR finery, their semi-concealed tattoos. They manage their lives like a corporation; do their own Taxes too! They Witter like ONLY Parisians do, an un-necessary flamboyance - an "eclair", in point, of all the Gals in the world? They OUT-TALK the lot! And, in my view, yours too (?), they got me stymied!

DEM GALS SURE have a good time? It doesn't matter if I'm there or not, they have that "joi de vie!". They R always planning a frolic or 2. (They hid my Tuxedo!) Where does that leave U or Me, happily confused, a tad outside yet, foolishly feeling blue? (WOTCHAGONNA-DO!?)

(Singing:) "TRA-LA-LA!" Ad-infinitum: The Paris Gals out-talk the lot! Dem Paris Gals out-talk the lot!...What's a poor GARCON to do?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Sargasso Sea."

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "The Sargasso Sea."

...WHEN THE WATER, GONE, DRIED UP, Oil prices plummeted, then, the SWIMMING POOL, the swim-pool owners thought they'd got this GIG-failed? A David Hockney canvas. An"A.I." Aquifer!!! A retro-Impressionist oil painting-smudge for your mind?

  When the Water dried up, the Champagne floated on an Ecco-illusion suggesting that those who owned swimming pools - would be alright.

When the Water dried up the MINISTRY (There's always a Ministry/there's always a MOLE, a Cabinet of Incompetence, a LEAK!) some "Gieves & Hawkes" tailored bureaucrat, 

...some sodomite (Eton Prep. school 0r Cambridge University deluge personality, robotically elected to the Houses of Parliament, a true Patriot: Patriotism? (Doctor Johnson!) The last refuge of a Scoundrel! -at some time, will always piss his pants.

When the WATER, gone, get thirsty. That READ (RED!!!) MARK MARKING by your Tutor in your schoolbook rule? When the snow fails to flood the rivers, to belch the ocean & and delivers your Sargasso Sea.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/8,000 miles east of Paris-France/Dave Delacroix: "Mlle (Mademoiselle)Maupin!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/8,000 miles East o0f Paris-France/Dave Delacroix: "Mlle Maupin!"

...Mlle Maupin? MY HEART IS BROKEN; a "Grisette" or famous courtesan? Mlle-Maupin U swirl through my society but when U leave, "Le Monde Fini!"

Mlle-Maupin? -historically, a famous O'Murphy who caught the eye of a French King, Mlle-Maupin, writer Theo Gautier captured your glory long after Casanova sent U to the palace of Versailles.

Mlle-Maupin, breasts naked, waving the tricolor on histories barricades. A Papillion, a flight above us all. Le Guillotine, never too far away.

 Mlle-Maupin, but now down on the Paris Metro: "Avez vous un-Franc?" But don't say goodbye, Mlle-Maupin: Your song-immortal! Mlle-Maupin? Don't go away.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize-next to Mexico/Dave Delacroix: "Night of the Cougars!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize-next to Mexico/Dave Delacroix: "Night of the Cougars!"

(dedicato: Leonardo Giannone)

"The Night of the Cougars!"

...NIGHT OF THE COUGARS, not a Gigolo in sight, just an incessant PURR, a Boy Scout Code -to "BE PREPARED", AC/DC, to freak out any Girl Guide/Uniformed of course! The "dress-code" of Martyrs has always been, historically debated; Rags, bejeweled. Un-frocked, De-Tux-ified (The Great Gatsby in his swimming pool?), the Knights-Templars! -who barely had time to bury their gold?

NO full moon, no Moon at all. (Bloody Werewolves - howling - abound!) That "Deutsche-Schwartzwald Forest Dating Agency", those mandatory neck "love-bites" schmoozing, a nod to Celtic RUENS (Nordic-Gaelic-Symbolic lingo) to piss off the Apostles who we believe, long since incinerated, crucified - latest news broadcast - outdated had gone, perhaps deservedly, to eternal slumber?

The Night of the Cougars, Black Friday, the 13th. And beware the Ides of March. (Funny old month/half-assed Winter/barely Spring), Nature's carrion call, domestic pets ever alert whence Banshees stir from their caves & Wizards-vibrant conjure incense & curse to mock logic & prey upon superstition, legend, myth and the ignorant darkness of the fragility of lesser minds: The Night of the Cougars! And yes! The dogs R barking!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now residing in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where Termites fear to tread."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Where Termites fear to tread."

(dedicato: Claudine.)

"Where Termites fear to tread."

...DID U EVER KNOW NOTHING, ever confess, KNOW NOTHING at all? -No-one to talk to, clutching at straws? Did U EVER have NOWHERE, no place to go; Poets show U the signposts (to nowhere) then conveniently, skip away.

Did U EVER have Ambition then climb that hill? Do U ever question, alone, & U sit there still? And to peek back at the Valley, a comfort warm, was there ever a choice? Yet the schoolyard girls/boys rejoice, echoes-chorus in your mind: Cold Comfort Farm. A dynamic, but not exactly U?

(Refrain:) Where Termites fear to tread. Where drunken Angels at the tavern sing OF our mortal whiles & who's to say what rights or wrongs, Love Rape, brutality, sired, delivered our own singular song?

Did U ever know Nothing, nothing at all? No-one to talk to, clutching at straws? Did U ever have nowhere, no place to go; Poets (Dem BANDIDOES!) will always skip away: Or that Song of Songs, a divine embrace, and, sometimes, a place where we belong.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Man on the Eifel Tower!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Man on the Eifel Tower!"

.... THE EIFEL TOWER & ME, feeling small? YUP! Inspector Maigret hot on my trail -but I was feeling guilty, everyone in PARIS somehow feels guilty over Baudelaire, or the duel twix Verlaine & Rimbaud not to mention "the Man in the Iron Mask"?

(Relax! The latter idiot was compensated!)

The Eifel Tower & Mio, an antiquated icon/imagio who, film-noir-over-shadows/a STILLETO-skyline pierces our Coen Bros. majestic Manhattan music backdrop; did anyone ever get out of the BOWERY, New York's "Hell's Kitchen" maimed or leastways, escaped with a walking stick? (Health-Care-thingy.)

...Generation after generation, now Tourist after Tourists, money layered upon money, folks just living the best they can... "CBGB's/Beirut Cafe?" N.Y.C.

"Dans Paris!" Immortalized by Degas, Renoir & associate Absinthe-aficionados (Pour quoi?): How does it go atop with only a creaking clutch of words, seminal-worthless in the eyes of our franchised World, that casino "one-armed-bandit", infinity favors fortune! (Craps, Roulette, 21!)

Like the man atop the Eifel Tower who perhaps NEVER but must decide to thrive or jump & die. The kids down on the ground: "Mama, I just saw a man die!?" -"HUSH. Wipe your nose. Keep walking along..."

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/a.k.a. David Michael Oxley on Facebook: "She got BLING!"

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

(dedicato: Carol Aniello.)

"She got Bling!"

(Song:) SHE GOT BLING! Everybody says so? She got Bling. I DO believe so....SOooo happy U R mine, your Bling in my mind. She's got Bling; the World is her Oyster.

She got Bling, the people adore her. She got Bling; all thru the night? She got Bling. The boys scramble for her attentions! So happy in Time. So happy she's mine...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now residing in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Silence of the Lambs!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix/ a.k.a. David Michael Oxley -on Facebook: "The Silence of the Lambs!"

"OH-SIRIUS!" (Internet public Q & A. lifestyle APP). Maybe there's One for broken hearts? "OH-SIRIUS! Where do lonely hearts inter-network-sad-saps like me go? -But GOD-FORBIDS, whoever THAT CLOWN IS; whotchagoona-DO if U want to tear off your HIJAB? (98 Lashes!!!?) or condemn Sharia-Insane-Law? 

"OH Sirius!  can U direct me; who should I contact/synthetic BIRD-CALLS or indirectly connect with some Pakistani HACKER (why R they - it seems - ALL Islamic/Pakistanis) who'll also seduce me for my bank account number, strip me clean/later to locally GROOM my - sex slave - teenage daughter? What KERNAL of EVIL groomed THEM in the first place? (Islam? Or just ground dirt greed?)

"OH! SIRIUS!" Do my Internet questions/innocent requests expose me/my Kids to ISLAM-TERROR, the cultural decline of (Even Cricket!!!) the destruction of cultural-International Trust; historically, when any which way, philosophically, was just "life's WICKETS" just WAS!? Or this "OWWZAT era of Western complacency?

"OH-SIRIUS, Internet/Computer/A.I. Maybe OUT THERE an APP for Broken Hearts; some careless Gals, out there on a lonely Saturday night on a British street. Un-afraid, in anticipation of the Spring of Life that THEY should expect to greet? 2026-OPEN SEASON on a mini-skirt blonde or brunette who night ventures into a Pakistani-Islamist night! (Muslim-Open Season on our Lady Fashionistas!)

...I HAVE a few IRANIANS, well-educated buddies, both, in their college years, penalized for not adhering to strict Muslim Laws who found a gig in Western Europe finally. But I will never understand WHY they don't raise their voices against the MEDAEVILISM in their own Country where GIRLS R deprived Education/civil emancipation? Why does that not matter? To THEM!!!

ENGLAND, under the threat of NAZIS/TYRANNY, we built a SPITFIRE/fought back!!! Islam, now invasive in Europe as now abandoned the MIDDLE EAST SEWER they made? Now we have ISLAM, 250,000 U.K. girls/WOMEN assaulted. (I guess the Pakistanis got bored with Cricket?). My Muslim friends. Reticent. (???). SHAME!!! It's NO LONGER a game of polite Cricket. Like letting HITLER rule the World. Your Silence is your SHAME: -The Silence of the Lambs! 

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...DO U "DO-DA-DOOBIE" in the morning? Do U "do-da-doobie" at night? OR...do U do-dah Bossa Nova, under the moon? Or, at midday; make the Sun go crazy!

Do U Mambo, Jumambi, Ju-Ju-karma? Do U LIMBO under the sky? Do U intestate-kamikaze, that inner spasm, just never wondering why.

Do U cleanse your Soul, a cerebral Tsunami, to feel that U R sometimes worthy, sometimes whole? Is it necessary to go shopping to get out of this groove;

1) Bambu/cigarette papers.

2) Case of Milk.

3) Tobacco.

4) VINO!

5) Bug Spray.

6) Chutney, to garnish Samosas.

...And Uncle Tom Cobbly & all!

Do U DO-BE-DOOBIE in the morning, at your laptop or on the street?  A Jumambi. A VOODOO! That worm in the bud/the turning of your screw. Would anyone understand except, maybe, some stranger U have yet to meet. That yeast in the air to ferment/focus on all, alas, we still feel is missing.

OK!!! Back to shopping:

1) A Pink inflatable Giraffe! (Life size)

2) A 45-foot Yacht!

3) Solar powered LEAR JET.

4) Unlimited supply of Madras Curry powder!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Ode on Indolence."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Ode on Indolence." (Après poem by John Keats.)

...A-MAH BIN WORKING ON MAH tropical (Belize) morning chorus-bird calls: "Coo-whoosits/CAW-CAW/Swoop=SWOP, Crack-a-fricking too!!!"; also catching up on my foot-dangling & trimming my MULLET (hairstyle). This doesn't leave me a lot of time for "indolence".

...I've been busy, managing/delegating in monosyllables to Rosa, Villa-housekeeping, Gerry, swimming pool maintenance & new kid on Campus, Kendrick, our Chateaux-Pelican Guest Villa compound landscaping dude which does not leave me a lot of time for "indolence".

I'm even getting complaints for my absenteeism @ my Corozal-Belize local bar, the "Natural Mystic"! ..."Where's U bin? How de doody?" etc. fully knowing they're blasting out (song) Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic"/one of my faves. And WOTCHAGONNA-DO, flip-flops instead of (Irish?) Brogues. Out here in the tropics, not a lot of time for "indolence".

Predictably, folks like me get a lot of Hate-Mail. They don't see what WE see, back-to-back bicyclists on a sandy street/we call it GRIDLOCK or standing at a Belize bus stop, sharing with a BZ Matriarch loaded down with groceries/we call that OVER CROWDING & if there's tumbleweeds blowing around the local mini market aisles, ya KNOW ya getting chiseled; alas, "indolence doesn't stand a chance! 

I've been -so-so working on my tropical bird calls, catching up on my foot-dangling & trimming my Mullet, and righteously, I'm sure you'll agree. Indolence is a MOOD-THINGY that needs to get a hold of me! But maybe not yet. I'll get back to U!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "...At the Gringo Bar!"

 Our Man in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "...At the Gringo Bar!"

(dedicato: Rene Jr/Rene Snr @ the Natural Mystic Pub, Corozal-Belize.)

"...At the Gringo Bar!"

...AT THE GRINGO BAR WE only talk to the Bartender, we never confess (Why should we?) or to our Priests; we only spill the Beans to fellow drunks, hitchhikers, highway encounters, never-likely to confide in Lovers-close. (E-Mail is SO passe?) "I left my heart in San Diego; holler back?"

We only talk "facia-a-facia" to Strangers, hoping it will "OUT-WASH/RINSE" our Conscience/GUILT (?), that "sang-froid", (OKLAHOMA WINTER), cold, the rot that resides in our Souls; Gold, Mir & Frankincense; a Curry where all myths, religion, redundant theology BOOGALOOS in your mind? -Keep those drinks a-coming!!!

We only converse, eloquent, raw-thirst, as our HUNGER becomes a DUST BOWL, ashes to ashes/funk to funky, nothing left, that ECCO-Holocaust, whence Kids once wallpapered their sad-Shack bedrooms with Newspapers, made dresses out of patterned flour sack cloth, devout in their FAMINE, no Banjo on Campus/no Charlie Chaplin in sight?

As with the Gringo Bar. No grapes, no wrath! Just a hopeless sojourn. A lame Crusade, a transmigration, Knights-Templars, Black Fridy (13th). A BUDWEISER NEON flickers. A Natural Mystic that labyrinthine's U into your own personal oubliette! At the Gringo Bar; a sad final retreat, for so many, a forgetting: (HAPPY-HAPPY!!!).

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(It's a Song/Music-thing.)

....NO REASON TO get lonely, no reason to just get PHONEY! It ain't no crime...to fall in love.

No reason, no vivid adventure; wotchagonna-DO: (fill in the .......blanks!)

...NO SENSE, no sensibility, no way of looking, U sometimes SEE the world upside down?

No reason TO get lonely. Ask me? -The World's way too phony. But like your average SAD-SAP (Just shoot me!) I'll fall in love at the drop of a hat!?

No reason to get lonely. No reason to BE PHONEY! It ain't no crime to fall in love.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in EUROPE/now residing in BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "BISCUITS on a PLATE! /THE RIDDLER!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Biscuits on a plate! /THE RIDDLER!"

...YOURS, THE MEMORY OF POP SONGS of cerebral-Biscuits, some trend-flavor of the (your) Times, that perfect Natures periodical epiphany, a flash of genius or sincere, (nobody forgets their youth time music golden oldies!) genuine inner genuflection which makes our passage through Time seem ultra real a 'la your first passion, a teen-age Crush so PROFOUND; a "Riddler", a "Ponce de Lyon" searching for that Fountain of Youth? (But in Florida? Why not Chicago or the outskirts of Torino-Italy!?)

There's a kick-in-the-ASS, that Cleopatra's ASP (Whoo!) who'll sting: Soul-bound! Not with-standing/Guillotine-threats, the howls of the Mob/the madding-crowd who chip away/altruism gone South which rattles your "inner-GIZMO" of your own personal (Idaho?) voyage to Treasure Island? "LAND AHOY!!!" (If Life was only that simple?) JIM HAWKINS: "Smart as Paint!"

BUT YOURS IS the Memory, your ghosts/regrets, a labyrinth of coils, the stuff of your inner eternity, that DRUM Tattoo, un-ceasing, marching U into that 11th hour, and promises-sworn, betrayed or forgotten, a Maverick in your Style? No magic carpet but maybe an Axminster, a comfortable rug? SEX!? Get it whilst U can. It's never too early, but sometimes ...it's too late!

But THERE'S the "Biscuit", a teeth-marked crumble/biscuit; perhaps a pre-destined suicide note never sent, some Apocrypha Bible book never published, the book of Judas, Mary Magdalene, almost forgotten yet recorded in Sanskrit, Sumerian, or Biro-penned on the back of some old Hippies Vinyl-L.P. to at last settle, perhaps on YOU or another's historical memory... That pesky RIDDLER, the mouse in the wainscotting, that turning of the screw. A dark cloud appears. A wedding ceremony. Vows & all: Whence U pronounce, - Oh what the hell? "I DO!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now residing in BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "The Sweats!"

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

(Song:) AH GOT DA SWEATS, I got the Sweats! Damned BUGS here in the Tropics; I got dah Sweats!

I got dah BATS! I got da Bats. Better call Doctor WHISKY; he knows just how to get rid of that!

I got the FEVER; AH GOT da Fever! That Peggy Lee Song; You KNOW she's been there, to sing that song?

I got the SWEATS, yup! I got da Sweats. Only mad dogs & Englishmen (Out in the midday sun) R prone to that!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...THE STREET GIVETH, THE STREET taketh away. Any Homeless person will tell U that...Got NO Babee anymore!

Boulevards, Strasser's, Via de Corso-ROMA, the grimy streets of London/its "Underground", the Paris METRO?

The Street giveth, the throngs, the People, future Lovers, the antagonists, the Francois Villon, Poets & thieves that U R sure to meet?

The Street GIVETH, the Street taketh away; THIS Mariachi, Minstrel, a Busker who strummed & sang his life away? Songs, compositions describing U, daily life, as U pass me by.

The Street giveth and the World BUTTERFLIES yet TIME ITSELF takes OUR song into nothingness. Time, weighed by its eternity, against-which our Song, in desperation, looks for a rhyme, dissolving as we sing.

The Street giveth. The Street taketh away, not WHOLE but in Life's chapters, existing, we must pay. "Where's mah goddamned Whisky!? Or O.K. I'll share my Tobacco/who scrounged the pizza?"

Even living under a bridge, living on the Street folks have their needs: On the Street!  & the Street giveth; anyone will tell U that...BUT! U got NO Babee anymore. Someone's got their no Babee anymore...On the Street.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Alongside the swimming pool...."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Alongside the Simming Pool!"

...ALONGSIDE THE SWIMMING POOL, on the patio where sloe-eyed Lobsters R never ever-EVER expecting to be boiled-alive, a 'la Christoper Isherwood's "The Berlin Diaries", RE: NAZI-PARTY (?) victims, Jews, Homosexuals, Gypsys or anyone resistant to GOOSE-STEPPING into an "Uber-Mensch" demi-monde-paradise?...

...where BOOKS R burnt & a fanatic Ideology/THEOLOGY (Present day ISLAM!) over rules all common sense in the name of some Icon, some man in the sky, his head covered, a robe or his babe in a HIJAB hardly likely to be attired for inter-planetary travel? (No Scriptures/Quran mention an airport Wheelie-Bag?)

Alongside the swimming pool in an illusory, David Hockney-painting blue, a fake gaiety, a colorized "Film Noir", images, symbols, a 'la SWATIKAS, history repeats it reptilian BOOGALOO! No-one believes it's coming. No one believes it can come down to U? (A Holocaust!!!?)

And the DEVIL makes work for retarded, idle hands, The BERLIN DIARIES, a hungry MOB'S hysteria, that curdle of social hysteria which, to this day, we fail to arrest or understand. The Middle East SEWER of Hate, 7 tribes (a Cumorah) of Hatfields & McCoy's, never to be at peace less a Pied Piper takes all their indoctrinated Kids away?

Alongside the swimming pool, on the patio, under tropic sun, remotely un-comprehending that RE-SURGENT FORCE of Medievalism despite benevolent great Muslim Matriarchs, Imans, Rabbis, Buddas, Priests who exhibit, preach harmony, yet now bland Islamic fanatics, VIRAL, groom, rape & assault our Western Christian Children!?

Alongside the swimming pool to bloody, to usurp then drain it dry where apathy, personal comfort, UN-caring prevails; is it NO WONDER we allow Tomorrows new TERROR to - historically - periodically reign? But, as with Nazis, Tamburlaine, Genghis Kan, Muslim invaders: JUSTICE for your inflicted INSANITY: The GUILLOTINE certainly awaits!

(TICK-TOCK! TICK-TOCK!) We Westerners can put up with a lot of CRAP! But U should know...(We don't take no Prisoners!). 

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Man who watched the Trains go by.: (A'pres novel by George Simenon.)

 Our Man in Europe/now in Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The Man who watched the Trains go by." (A'pres the Novel by French Writer, George Simenon.)

(Folkie tune:) "The Man who watched the Trains go by."

...I AIN'T TRAVELLING ANYMORE. I ain't a-roaming anymore. The TRAIN (See previous Blogpost) has left the Station; there's nobody on board? I ain't going nowhere, happily, for once & all

I ain't falling in Love again. I ain't the Man U'd ever want. My heart isn't broken, but my Soul is plum worn out? Chancers R I'll never fall in love again. I was never the dude U think I am, gone to seed, mostly whisky-sedated is where I am. AMORE, sadly, arrivederci! (Don't invite me to your -College-Graduation - PROMS!!!)

...I don't regret the Life I've chosen & I couldn't give a damned what people think? -No regrets, but that's not true, but REGRETS R worthless, a lock of hair, a mirror's reflective stare never, & U NEVER see yourself, YOUR actual U? But IF U do? Go buy a lottery ticket!

...I watch the Night Trains pass me by. A train-carriage-window-lit-chequer-board in transit, flying by. I'm now the Man who watches the Trains go by as our dreams, launched into an Icarian sky, unfailing, to crash on down. I watch the Night Trains pass me by...But still think of, there's always SOMEBODY, a "U!"?

I ain't DYING anymore. No-way JOSE! I ain't dying anymore! If LIVING is DYING, I'll leave it up to U. I survived MY Wars but know no Peace, so kick me to the sidewalk; And if U like I''ll make GOD my PEACE but THIS Old Rockstar ain't travelling anymore. AND BADDABOOM!!!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "THIS Train!" (For Music Video, see post's footnotes.)

...THIS TRAIN don't carry no passengers, this train! This Train don't carry no passengers, this train? This Train don't carry no passengers/but it might take U to the Other Side; this train don't carry no passengers: This Train!

(A well-a-well a well, -a-well-a well-a well!)

This Train don't need your sympathy, THIS Train! This train don't need your sympathy, this train? This Train don't need your sympathy, but it might fly U to the other Side? This train don't need your sympathy, this train.

(A well-a-well-a well: A ZAK-ZAK-ZAK!!!)

This Train don't carry no passengers, this Train. This Train don't carry no passengers, this Train? This Train don't carry no passengers; but it might fly U to the Other Side, this Train don't carry no passengers, this Train...

(Singing in French:) "C'mon sa'va et moi? C'mon sa'va c'est soir? C'mon sa'va, Em moi-dans le noir?" -This train don't carry no passengers, the Train:

(A well-a-well-a-well/A well-a well-a well!).

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. /This SONG posted/published on UTUBE-Music Video, specifically, the one with photo of a New Orleans tram car. Dave Delacroix. Enjoy!

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The O.A.Ps!" (U.K. Old age Pensioners.)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The O.A. P's!" (U.K. Old Age Pensioners.)

(dedicato: fellow youngish-old dudes, Marc Pierson, Steve Johnson, Gordon Westeran & all the Lads & Lasses who have, in their time saved/served "Old Blighty".)

"The O.A. P's! (England's Old Aged Pensioners!)

"FREEZE BUDDY!!! HANDS UP AGAINST THE WALL! (Search him Sgt. Smith/My aging Uncle/Check him-see if this Islamist Immigrant got some anti-cultural-curriculum Ducats!!!) "WE ARE THE O.A. Ps!!!"" Show him your Pensioners FREE BUS PASS, flash your cut-price dental work; Corporal Nalty. Don't take NO SHIT!" "Spread Em Buddy!!!" (DAD's ARMY/British last frontier!): WE STAGGER FOR NOBODY!!!

"The O.A.P.'s!"

.... It's not EASY to live (EXIST!) on 70 British Pounds/some change/Free Bus Pass (2026) PER WEEK let alone for U.K. Pensioners with NO option for them to go Skiing (sans N.H.S. orthopedic designer Skies) in Switzerland or enjoy a flutter in a Monte Carlo Casino... attired in last year's moth-eaten tuxedo, rather, their best MOSS-BROS, off the peg 2 piece worsted suit? (My name's BOND?)

And it's pretty (remote) hard to spring/pay for, for a weekend with your Grand-Kids in Bridlington, Brighton, Margate or Scarborough-Fair not to mention to pay/fix your leaking roof? And cutting out Coupons, bargain sales, worried about your daughter who just came home back to stay, divorcing that clown she married who U didn't much like anyway?

It's a TAD difficult having paid a LIFETIME of TAXES so that the Royal Navy can build a new AIRCRAFT CARRIER, militarily out of date/space-age DRONES can knock it out? Britania RULES the waves, yet we veterans R now all at adrift? And in the Land of Hope & Glory, just fooled & led into a Lee? Just WHO is at the HELM of, what was once, our beloved Country?

"SHIP AHOY!!!" (Crow's Nest!) -The O.A.P. crew down here in the BILGE who cannot afford basic needs; food, heating, RENT, the necessities of English Life! "SHIP AHOY!!!" Rudderless! WE-SONS-OF-A-GUN! Who, like the UNKNOWN SOLDIER sacrificed, ignored, put in the shadows, a CULTURAL SHAME, we "paid-up" old folks, who linger until the day we die....

.... But still in our hearts/from Sheffield School Assembly we still sing: "ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS, marching AS to War! With the Cross of Jesus, going on before!"

c. June, 2026. D-DAY!!! Dave Delacroix. 

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

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

.... EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S WINDY/NOWHERE, the "Road to Rivergaro" (See ancient Blogpost), a BLUE MOON? I saw U on a sunbeam, a SICILIAN road, your Virginity was opulent, your brothers all carried Rifles? I hid amongst the grape vines & recited verses of DANTE with all my Soul, "SEDUCTION et ABANDAMATO, guilty, but what could my inner nature DO?

.... And after MONTHS we had a Child. 

Both of our Families dis-own our Marital feast, our magic, that epiphany of LOVE. what have we done? But fell in love? Uncle Antonio, sharpening a handy Stiletto grumbles-silencio, Pappa is OUTRAGED, Mamma still is protective, your 3 sisters give me/U the EVIL EYE...like Space Cadets...old, casual boyfriends don't look U in the eye. And the newly installed (Immigration ISLAM Green-Light Scum who now clutter our streets?) clearly, on a MUSLIM whim, all prepped to stone U to death?

The Town's average (remember, U R just an un-married pregnant, late teenage GIRL), in a community of - latter-day WOODSTOCK/LOVE & PEACE/1969 - observance-resigned, yet in effect, a societal benign social-TUMOR of thought & surrounded by Social SPACE CADETS, old & young, attempting to (Huh?) right your wrong on every side?

Everyone KNOWS it's windy. If U feel like an outcast, a Refugee? Remember. Refugees VOTE with their feet. In a WORLD where we all Outsiders meet. FAR from Cultural Fascist/Space Cadets: Coffee on the pot. Tea by the kettle. Beer on ice. Whisky in the JARO. And warmth by the fire; far from the madding crowd! We roam the World to find a place where we can live, as a family and to live in our OWN "Private Idaho".

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (Fictional story but Societal Poem,)

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Bell, Book & Candlestick! /"Wish U were here!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Bell Book & Candlestick! /Wish U were here!"

DO NOT GO GENTLY into that good BLOKE; God-knows what U. R. gonna contract, nor (Lads!) that DESIREE, a Scorpion (?) with TITS to sting your TEST-TACKLES, a potential death-toll knoll? -Half drunk & as HORNY as hell; who's zooming who in the pit of sexual desire?

...Reading by moonlight, bell, book & candle, a hollow cry, (I should-a known better!?) -that - eternal - soliloquy-RE-SURFACED which Spittals in your face; a Pilgrim's Progress, a tale un-told. Even Poet CHAUCER would be be-wildered by your tale, leastways censor or review his Joke-Sack!

There's only, sometimes Glory, there's only your Song of inner Songs. Like a perfect murder: What could go wrong? There's only our desires-mischief, a Pilgrim's way to wrack & ruin, to crush a Love's competitor, a tavern-brawl a 'la Kit Marlowe, Elizabethan Poet & Spy, dagger-stabbed into literary eternity?

(BANSHEE CRIES!!!)

It's only the Bell, the (Shakespearian) "ALARUM!" some Book to re-read (Raymond Chandler?) or a Candle to light your way? -That LAST SUPPER (Why not THE LAST BRUNCH?) U enter UP to heaven or hell, to the Devil or the Angels, their delight, and YOU, a dysfunctional Pied Piper who took away the Kids but caused a Societal night? The Black Plague or a blood red river Nile? Foresight like Genius can get U hung!

Do not go BENTLEY, DAIMLER or ROLLS-ROYCE into this good night, opt for a VW-Volkswagen, something inconspicuous. A Mimi-Cooper, a Citroen CV7, a Piccolino FIAT, better still just hitch-hike? Those taciturn Gods R apt to - like USA-Immigration Control Robots - more likely to BUST, MUGG, or frick U over at N.Y.C. Ellis Island, Freedom's last turnstile! There IS no Home of the Brave. As for the Land of the Free? -Keep dreaming.

DESTINY decrees it's no longer COOL to "wander lonely as a cloud" There's always spite, jealousy or some Islamist FANATIC to shoot U down. And NO Bell, Book or Candle to protect or redeem your Soul. Vacation Postcards are "passe"; nobody these days, even Internet texting posts/writes: "Wish U were here!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

.

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

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

I AM NOT THE MAN U think I am. I am not that Dude, tuxedoed, clean-cut & groomed. I am not the hero in your story. I am not some Court Fool nor your stooge.

I'm not the Man in your alphabet nor Captain of treasure-laden ship returning from overseas. That Conquistador died long ago; the El Dorado of my dreams.

I'm not the Man, the kid most likely to succeed nor school class clown, nor Rugby star, just a Man who comes home late at night & wonders where the past years sleep.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE, Dave Delacroix: "Something Blue."

 Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Something Blue."

...I DON'T know U from EVE, a Nemesis, friend or foe or some Banshee, Witch, a LAMIA who can strangle me in reptilian coils? ...WE, lonesome hearts-vulnerability, rudderless Souls in a storm a-sea? So, make it fresh, make it Cool or maybe, if U can: Just make it Blue.

...WE have travelled SOOO far in this hemisphere, blind-on-blind yet kisses sweet, UN-knowing "a 'la" destiny, a universal sweep? Almost lost in Society's vacuum, re-surfacing UP for air? We gulp down Oxygen pretending all is Hunky-Dory! (Who came up with that one/David Bowie?) Alas, BIG-D is no longer there. (Ashes to ashes!).

Yet a forlorn "HUZZAH!". Sometimes a yawn. An exigency! A yearning, (My Japanese Girl!) to make it fresh, make it Cool, hoping we make it Blue. Something fresh, something NEW, something Cool, but all the time wishing for something Blue.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: Johan Perez)

"Raybans."

...GOT MAH MOJO WORKING, got my ancient/misty RAYBANS (Sunglasses), got Em at the "Goodwill" store. Borrowed this tuxedo from Crooner, Steven St. James, my "winklepicker" hand-made Italian shoes, a gift from Horst, my Deutch-drummer, Hildesheim band? 

My Music Producer (Serbian/he doesn't like publicity), his Credit Card - on loan - is worth about half a Song. Alas, Hollywood, that insidious community, always anticipates you going wrong.

GOTTA DREAM, had a dream, not that U'd notice or about OUR tomorrows, about Me & You, or that KICK in my solar plexus, that tangle, & gotta FEAR, nothing is true. Was it ever?

Gotta Blue Moon in my sunset, gotta boulevard in my Soul; the only scrap of evidential existentialism that U ever, ever own?  A Bridal gown moth-eaten in your closet? There IS of course, in the WILD-WORLD that gridlock-kamikaze, a perpetual origami that butterflies, an exotic pest that never leaves U alone. Do we cease to BE?

HAMELT, confused dude, outshone by a Cigar brand. Keep that in mind.

Got my ragged Raybans -a-nose, a-dangling, an antique "pince-nez", a PROM Night, half-assed groomed from head to toe and WITH LUCK this new love of mine, never ending. (I must try to elicit her name without appearing to have forgotten it?)

Nobody's perfect. NOBODY BUT YOU in your smart-set/pristine RAYBANS (Sunglasses), the STUFF of past-perfect U never ever needs to know. S'why I'm "putting on the Ritz just this - long-since - last time. Get hung for a sheep as a lamb in this our world of pettiness, cheap-ass nickels & dimes. Ya just CAN'T sweat the "small stuff"; it's ALL "pretty-petite!"

O.K>!!! RAYBANS ON! (I got my MOJO working:) Show time!

c. Dave Delacroix. 2026.....DEAR POST READER? If U feel inclined U might post your name on the BLOG as a "Follower". No scam. All free. It'll make me look good/popular, I suppose. Thank U.