Our Man in Europe/now Belize, Dave Delacroix: the Loser with the Floosies: "GHOSTS!"
(dedicato: Ina Kaab)
THAT GHOST, the ORINGINAL GHOST - in the way of things - her OWN GHOST - go figure/SPOOKY- who never felt haunted. NEVER felt HAUNTED... (U with me so far?) The Ghost? Some Gal. Relax. Love is foggy.
Yet She, unconfounded, A GHOST! -she flitters thru Life's gossamer intangibility, a flicker in twilight, an undecipherable enigma that U just cannot pin down. (U with me so far?) ...wish "I" was. ("I talked dat weeping Willow how to sigh!") Let's all chain smoke!
THIS GHOST whose lipstick never smeared a Vino glass, a shirt collar, but perhaps a memory, maybe crossed YOUR path ...who did everything WRONG; wearing "Ninfa N0-5" perfume, or a GUITAR, or tits like rocks yet could trash your accustomed "feng sui"...that BOOGALOO, that Time of U? WotchagonnaDo? More Boogaloo? I need your advice!!!
This GHOST who - methinks - missed HER only Ghost who now midnight oil parks her toes on foreign soil; will U too suffer; the love U have to give? A force of Nature. A Psychopathic sneeze. "ALLORS!!! Traveler, who pass on by? This milestone is meant for .... sign in your name. For now, that Ghost is U.
c.2026. Dave Delacroix. (A Loser with the Floosies.) Ghost on Ghost.
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