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.