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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...And I SALUTE everyone of them!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

"The D-Train."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(dedicato: Elizabeth Grant.)

"Into the Pool."

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: John Scace.)

"When Victory comes."

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

"CIRCE!"

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: Marc Pierson.)

"The Weeping Willow."

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: Sarah B. Cabe.)

"Cool of the Evening!"

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

C. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(Pop/Rock-a-Billy!)

"The Whole Night Long!"

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

(Guitar solo!)

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

(Guitar solo!)

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

(Guitar solo!)

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

(Guitar solo!)

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

"Life on a Sweet Roll."

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. dave delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(dedicato: Carol Marie Aniello.)

"Some of these days."

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

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

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

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

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(Dedicato: Ken & Tammy)

"BARBI-Q!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Guys! Has this ever happened to YOU?

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I still hear U through the wire!...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Robbing (Saint) PETER to pay (Saint) Paul

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

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

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

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

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

(A Song!)

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

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

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

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

v.2026/Dave Delacroix.

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

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.