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

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

...WHO TAUGHT THE WEEPING WILLOW how to CRY? Look no further. Whilst IN FACT my DAD invented the French-Dip-Soup (not a lot of people know that?) my OWN cultural-contribution: "THE POGO!" -a robotic dance now sweeping European DISCO floors; halcyon days? As for these notes of Creativity? U people don't even know the meaning of heartbreak, leastways what I tell passing strangers after reciting Keats' "The Eve of St. Agnes" before they FLY, never again to have known or met me? People can be so cruel.

The "weeping willow" of course, after post-decades of psychotherapy still prevails "avec" mega amounts of KLEENEX tissues; perhaps like Aspirin, an undiscovered "wonder drug", that "magic bullet", a wonder cure for All societies dysfunctional SNIVELLERS, Cross-dressers or people named Ralph? Admittedly, there is NO CURE for the common Cold 'cept - prevailing - an honorable suicide, and traditionally favored by failed Poets, Game Show hosts with TV low ratings, Stand-Up Comedians? No suicide-note Jokes: Body Bags Anonymous! Montparnasse cemetery: Charles Baudelaire. And alas: Some War-Crime pit. A BABI-YA. Or (Tom Waits growling:) "Out on edge of Potters Field."

Weeping Willows, rabid Lotus blossoms, Oak Leaf village festivals, or a sudden flight of Swallows, Pigeon shit on your windowsill: WHAT medievalist symbols, or the cult of ISLAM do U embrace, that WANT of your NEED...to "black out" your Fear?... No personal renaissance, no personality "resorgimento" in sight? Yet DEGAS, French Impressionist painter, accidently - snoozing on his sunlit balcony - fair BLINDED, did not succumb, turned his talent to sculpting bronze figurines that make Art collectors sweat & scream & Swiss Banks vaults hording Nazis gold burst at the seams?

Meantime, poor old "Weeping" whoopsies resides in your Soul never likely to release U, that GIG U felt-forced to plant long ago. Poet Arthur Rimbaud. "A Season in Hell". A souvenir, reluctant to lose now infuses all your Tomorrows: A stretch-limousine, a taxi-fare. A dinner at the "Cafe de la Paix", "Maxime's!", which U can no longer afford. And that flower-glint, that spark in once, your childlike eyes now fade to dark.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.