Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA ZIZZ over DA ZAZZ!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA ZIZZ over DA ZAZZ!"

...DA ZIZZ over DA ZAZZ, that "fun-wicked" (why-not?)  in your Soul, an inherent BOOGALOO founded in Nature's innocence, your dancing shoes? Nobody, in Love is perfect, unrequited Love/nobody's quite ordained a FOOL but sometimes we get USED, portrayed a Lady Macbeth, Helene of Troy, Clepatra on a bad day, Lucrezia Borgia dallying with her pet monkeys played in Movies as a Card-Sharpe-Duce! As for their "Ladies-in-Waiting? The last Dowager-Empress of CHINA, fan-tan- splendor- Courtesan- imperium? Disco-Queens-Bordello?

 But ALAS!!! -Culturally Gender-prejudiced/ISLAM FEMALE GENDER-EMANCIPATED-GENOCIDE? -FEMALE-HOLOCAUSTS!!! (No Death Camps. Just Village/town squares long since bulldozed over?)  BIKINI-ATOLL under lecherous eyes? Medievalism/Islamic/lack of CEREBRAL development circles like buzzards over Civilizations' skies. MALE Madding crowds! MALE Mob rules!  Leastways, no Joan of Arc. No Boadicea. no Memorial... Bury my heart in Canoga Park?

Whilst Non-Victims from Persia to Scotland, left only with Cultural REFUGEE recourse, or those remaining/resisting destined to get STONED, LASHED! Or burnt on a Witches pyre? At the hands of a Witchfinder-General, IMANS, MEN IN GREY, uneducated: Civic Leaders of authorized, institutionalized EVIL?... (Obviously, a bunch of small-Dicks! - a-feared of a Gal's Tongue-lashing!?) Lord KNOWS, tapestries, chronicles, in evidence - tailoring? - they never visited, "Saville Row"? -TITS & VAGINAS, LASHED/burnt, row on row!? (A BIKER Saturday Nite -Gang Bang!?)...Where REASON, never mind the Angels fears to tread?

DAT ZIZZ-ZAZZ; our inner-Soul, DAT MIDNITE HOUR, in later years, will (assuredly) come back to HAUNT like a graverobber picking OVER an interned Corpse; rings, golden trinkets, bits & bobs, cherished souvenirs, predictably DAT ZIZZ's Archeologist will never UNDERSTAND, lost ancient Domini who put pen to papyrus/clay tablets, the ZIZZ of ZAZZ of sacrifice, a HISTORY/testament of how beautiful Cultural pre-ISLAM Poetry BUTTERFLIED; Lesbos in Greece, or how well U TOO, once played upon a stringed Lyre, like Penelope, Ulysses WIFE, who long-awaited an enlightened MAN to reign by her side. As for CENTURIES now, far too MANY too late, but THIS, their Song, which can never die: Da ZIZZ over ZAZZ! We pray - BRIDE-BURNING! /CLITHORAL-CIRCUMCISION! - now, in 2026 WE RAISE OUR VOICES!!! And protect Life's Maidens. Not only in our humanity-indignation but to provide Global Protection...if only for ONE Child-Bride if it's not too late.

As for that Shakespeare/Dante/Homer of ancient PERSIA, pre-ISLAM, HAFIZ!!!...He wrote: "Do not play with a Tigers Cubs nor destroy a young lady's illusions" He was a free-thinker, a Lover, a POET-TOO, who found inspiration in the opposite sex not fearing their majestic persona! AVE HAFIZ!!! Poets, my friends, of yesteryear might be forgotten but R vastly underrated!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "HUGS FOR YOUR PLUGS!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "HUGS FOR YOUR PLUGS!"

...HUGS FOR YOUR PLUGS/BLOG VIEWS my INTERNATIONAL Friends! October 2026 has become a BUMPER viewing event & I am IN AWE & HONORED by your recognition of this pond-size ripple within an OCEAN of Inter-net/Blog diatribe: October: 200,000 plus hits!... This Old ex-Rockstar, feeling quite dizzy. ENCORE! Encore my Friends. U R ALL invited to my - Chateaux-Pelican - Belizean Guest Villa for a grande BBQ/Beer fest!!!

Aside, in all humility, some background, though NOT in any way promoting/advertising I alert U to a NEW uploaded website: U-tube, Dave Delacroix (just Google?) which - bits & bobs from my Music Career past - showcase my Songs/CDs/Videos & most recently, SHORT MOVIES in which I have participated/soundtracked/produced etc.

Once again, a heartwarming INTERNATIONAL THANKS & if, not TO overload U with INFO, my day-to day "BOOGALOO" can be monitored/FRIEND-ME through my Facebook page (David Michael Oxley/my original English family name) for tales of lunacy/happenstance/foibles & our shared, life-long misadventures! -A SALUTE to ONE & ALL!!! (With Love...).

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Bonfire of the Vanities!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Bonfire of the Vanities!"

...A funny thing happened on ROME's "sacred way" (Via Sacre!) as they conveyed my CORPSE onward/ to the inner Forum - my belated TRIUMPH - funeral pyre.? But NOT QUITE DEAD (but loving it? - not wearing a PLAID Toga/Avante-garde thingy?) it seemed necessary - "Post-Mortem-Cyber-Housekeeping!?" - IN THE COFFIN -that I "clear the decks" last-minute-responses to all my Internet responsibilities, w/ Cellphone, RAPIDLY texting which - from friends & music fans - I felt it discourteous/ inconvenient, inopportune considering my SITU that THEY, as an afterthought, text me? So, comatose, supposedly DEAD, Rapido-last second-texting, The PURGE /the last messages of a Corpse:

..."Yes. OMIGI-Cool! Your last Facebook post? Awesome! NO! I can't make it to your next concert/BBQ/Bar-Mitz-Bar/Wedding anniversary/Biker-Gang festa next Saturday/my profuse apologies/I gotta date with FATE; NO!!! Don't ask!"...HUGS!?" I had to be QUICK! I'm supposed to be cremated soonest! (...Not sure if I ever "Signed out?)

...A funny thing happened - lugged along (Visa Sacre) upon the shoulders of my "favorite-usual-suspects" in a cheap-ass pine box w/fluted corners that I alone had personally ordered/the economy-size, pre-ordered has I had lately put on weight? And, proceeding in my funeral train, wagons of all my lifes-long souvenirs' I would take with me into a primaeval Valhalla, a PYRE, a veritable bonfire of MY Vanities: my fave Guitars, paintings, knick-knacks, cherished bits & bobs & a casket of old loves, locks of hair, the ONLY 1.000 WOMEN I ever loved?

...But with the INCESSANT - in the Coffin - CELLPHONE-RINGING ("Wake up Little SUZIE!) SOooo outraged my mortal repose causing the regurgitation of my Life's spirit so that I (Reincarnated?), screamed/kicked-off the lid of my cheap ass casket then hopped out IN A RAGE - some witnesses fainted -, & quickly gathered my WITS to gallantly invite all & sundry to my Wake's booze-fest!!!...On my appearance - pre-reserve drinking tavern/buffet - there of course, the Piano-guy died of shock/figured he might not get paid & the flies circling the overhead ceiling fans dropped to the floor en masse!

Apparently, at "WAKES-VILLE", I appeared to be the only dude who seemed to be having a good time? I loaded the Jukebox with snippets of Faure's Requiem. And U betcha! I insisted all Cellphones be switched off whilst reciting bone-chilling Gothic tales so recently, albeit, non-voluntarily, - Wake Up Little Suzie! - I'd carried - post-hoc - from the grave.

...Since THEN, graffiti is frequently painted on my humble house door: "Don't Cry WOLF!" (In Latin: NOLI FLERE LOPUM!) My OWN take on this is make sure your OWN Coffin/TOMB doesn't have WI-FI; better still, in advance - so U can R.I.P. - ditch your Cellphone, Laptop, APPS/A.I. in the nearest sewer! Maybe THEN U can get back to "facia et facia", that HUMAN TOUCH, which seemingly WE have all presently abandoned.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...THE LONG & BINDING ROAD won't let me go. One drink with U & one more for the road? 

Times tentacles get tighter even though now I get slow; it's not that I cannot resist, fight, nor be bold? -Just another aspect of a Soul getting old.

REMEMBER Spring? U trippin' da Light Fandango? What songs did U sing? Nowadays, can U even mimic the Tango?

The long & binding road... won't ever let me go. Time's Venus Flytrap has ME in its jaws!

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "No Man is an Island." (Après Elizabethan Poet John Donne.)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "No Man is an Island." (Après Elizabethan Poet John Donne.)

...NO MAN IS AN ISLAND, no GAL, ovaries included is a complete archipelago. No freedom-fighter nor discontent rabid MOB is invulnerable, usurped by DEVILS who will piss on your noble rug?

No Man is an Island, no nobles, princess, Queen Penelope surrounded by WANNABEES/parasites who fail to string Ulysses' bow? Fate dictates, nightly her tapestry-unravelling?

No man is an island nor having sailed the seven seas, profitless in voyages of exploration, Love's OYSTER bereft of its enchanted pearl U will - unlikely - never see.

No man is an island. Trade winds ponder the mind. "LAND-HO!" -the crows-nest holler! Yet the riches of CATHAY U foolishly left behind.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ACHILLES' HEEL!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ACHILLES' HEEL!"

...IT'S ONLY LOVE'S FIRST WOUND, Nature's Achilles Heel, an INCUBUS, under your skin which determines your Heart's TATTOO to linger ever-after?

It's only Love's first BOOGALOO, till your final date with eternity; no-one is IMMUNE, no "Sheer-Luck" detective can decipher, postmortem corpse delicta?

It's ONLY Love's first wound, the unnecessary baggage of a refugee, a Spring rains "sigh" (?), that moment, palpitating when FOR Love U R prepared to die, a fool in love not knowing just why?

The GODS, out of our control, unaccountably, shoot an arrow in the air & just where it falls, head or heels, no gyro, its target, unpredictable! -nor forget or forgive the drumbeat of Histories repercussions.

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

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

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

...HOPE NOBODY SHOOTS ME - a 'la Great Gatsby - in my swimming pool? It'll totally screw-up - blood-spouting! -  the Pool's "P-H" level, the Pool-Guy'll give me HELL: Wotchagonna-DO? Post-mortems rarely prove anything 'cept the obvious. ("WE GOTTA FLOATER!!!)

...Hope nobody fixers it so I get MINCED in the gears of a combine-harvester, in IOWA (why not? Farmers, AMISH, if I'm not mistaken the gentlest State in the U.S.A/Jack Kerouac noted: "The prettiest Gals live in DES-MOINE!?" Still? Hitch-hiking w/Guitar IN Iowa wasn't the easiest State to get a ride? Too many Crime Shows on their Social media?

...HEROES, like U & I prefer to die on D-Day-Normandy, or attacking (Revolutionary France) the BASTILLE or with Prez-ROOSERVELT, storming San-Jaun Hill! Yup! But when your NUMBER'S UP U just get on UP, get a Medal or just flop like a sack of coal! (There's no shame in DAT!) But then, alas, how would U know?

...Hope NOBODY w/a black heart - they come in Spades! - some ejected Vixen who paid for the bullet, founded upon a trail of NEZ PERCE tears, a trail of YEARS, a trail of broken hearts and @ the END of the road...ME-hitting the local produce market, for HER w/accomplices, to interrupt my needy shopping?...

1) Tea-Bags.

2) Dishwash Soap.

3) VODKA!

4) Milk.

5) Olive Oil.

6) BEER!

7) Meat/Spaghetti sauce.

8) Lemon Juice/Worcester sauce/Bloody Mary mix.

9) Coffee? NO! I got it.

...NOPE! HOPE NOBODY, like the sword of Damocles bothers to trifle with my destiny? They'll find me willing & able to PISS on their revenge-EXISTENTIALISM; meantime? I'm diving into my "own-personal-Jesus", my swimming pool. "HOOP-LA!" to the demons in their Souls!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The BARD upon the Stage!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "The BARD upon the Stage."

(dedicato: Sir John Waller, English Poet (1917-1995).

...WHISPER! WHISPER! The ENGLISH cultural/education School Choir: Where Heroes, sometimes fear to tread, NO "O sole Mio!!!" -God forbids! Farewell Achilles, AJAX too! Stick ya NECK OUT: U GET WACKED!!!, no denying. The Plebians will somehow hunt/grind U down? -mean time, collectively rousing a CHORUS of "Jerusalem", by William Blake, England's most - un-fashionable - greatest pre-modern-day Poet?... 

...A parallax society, in England, Nobility, Kings & Queens, in Italy, the Papacy, or faraway in a mud hut in FIGI, the Headsman, the JU-JU-MAN; nobody can remember how it started. Like in THEATRE! "Hamlet", asking universal questions upon a public stage.

...Where HEROES fear to tread; modern inter-net PIRATES, post Public School boys rip off the Stock Market daily for a PORSCHE or the Regal Pussy with a double-jointed name? Ezra Pound, Poet, your buddy, Sir John, I believe touched upon this subject?

...Where HEROES fear to tread, the famed theatrical bound of London's Shaftesbury Avenue, once saluted, HONOURED! -for dignity, altruism, now, perhaps usurps by Bollywood, Hollywood, we no longer see the woods for the trees as if ALL the World caught a Cold & all WE do is SNEEZE! And as for the common cold? -We still have yet to find a cure. The BARD, arms a-waving. Heroes in clover. A WHISPER! Alas "poor Yorick". His jests we can no longer hear.

C.2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

 Our <an in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "RED SHOES!"

...U R TIRED, HIJAB-CLOAKED of your Culture's-"dictatorial"; me too! Wearing a THONG, they sneer/try to prohibit ME from promenading down Main St. or wandering in the Bazaar? My butt cheeks sneer at their every glance en- route to Sunday Chapel or an Iman's call to brainwashing prayer, (Singing: All things bright & wonderful...) People R way too gullible, leastways sensitive? Think of L.A. Valley Girls with serious fashion "Issues!" (Personally, I never DO! Happy in my Thong.)

But just where R my Red Shoes, the ones my heart was destined to dance with? - a Lady sings...

...U HAVE TIRED of the LIMBO, that frenetic MAMBO, U have finally tired of the Love that Loved U?  (Some Loser!) And IN your twilight, perhaps a sparkle of magic, the kind: A Jack-in-da-Box yet IN your eyes it's tragic? -allowing for HIJAB-CLOAKED sighting? (No-one KNOWS where your heart lays>) A bi-pod cloak like a sack of coal. An Iman's, Ju-Ju-Man's distain for your feminine humanity.

But where R my Red Shoes, the ones my heart was destined to dance with? - a Lady sings...

U R TIRED, HIJAB-CLOAKED! Refugees VOTE with their FEET. Biblically, Judith cut off Holofernes head, Jacque-Louis-DAVID's famous painting, the Death of Marat? -She wacked him in the bathtub! I think Lucezua Borgia got a bad rap. She was too busy being pampered to be worried about where her attendants had stored her red shoes?

...WE R ALL EXHAUSTED/TIRED of the redundant dictates of "little men", the Rabis, Imans, Bhudas, Ju-Ju-Men, Orthodox, Non-Orthodox who EQUALLY do a fine line in pointy hats & fine tailoring, pomp & circumstance, an institutionalized psychology to sustain societies banking/greed status quo? -Leaving U THUS. no Lady-razor, NO red shoes! But like U, we ain't done yet. A-MAH GONNA - till the day I die/hoping U do too -PUT ON DEM RED SHOES!!!

-And internationally, NO LONGER, hopefully, in times to come will a GIRL or LADY sing; "But where R my Red Shoes, nor GET circumcised or CUT OFF their CLITORIS, the RED SHOES, the one their HEART was destined to dance with?"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "TAKE FIVE!" (Apres Dave Brubeck song)

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "TAKE FIVE!" (Apres Dave Brubeck song)

...THE SKY (CLOUD-THINGIES) WOZ driving North with the Handbrake ON which mirrored my mood, atop my Bloody Mary breakfast, a libation to no GODS in particular.

There's no rhyme nor reason 'cept a fading/diminishing echo of that past evening's Midnight Choir I enjoined with such gusto-annexed to having solved ALL the World's problems in YARDS of Ale & with ONE (or three?) a good Whisky's GULP?

HENCE! The Mind's "handbrake" (hangover?) whence common-sense attempts to reclaim its rightful though fragile domain? Sometimes-SERIOUS! Priestly Confessions, expensive Psychotherapy: "Smoke Em if Ya got Em!!!"

...So! Who, the Fool? Who, the Clown? Or the KING, that universal compound seated above us all; a witness, eternal, to TWO Galaxies-colliding, a "tempo dia Muertos" awaiting Dave Brubeck's "Take-5!" to send us ALL on our hapless way, yet once again? (Google tune & enjoy!)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Exile on Main Street."

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "Exile on Main Street,"

...NUTTIN' DOIN' DOWN HERE... on the Main Street of YOUR MIND; no regrets - Edif Piaff's, La vie a Rose! -  A "pastiche"; sadly/morbidly dwelling on an "olde Lange syne", finding ourselves hanging out with the furballs, CATS! -by the swim-pool on the patio... dwelling on all the Heavens & Hells, we each leave behind? 

Throw in - the scene - an ice/fog machine/Devils in the Fog, thus enshrouded INTO THE MYSTIC, a Van Morrison song! Sound CARRIES in the fog and sometimes, your Minds whispers can be overheard! Equally, underwater, a sound, a panic? A razor tooth SHARK will circle! The ocean's main street is where they do their shopping!

...NUTTIN' DOIN' ...down on the Main Street of your Mind. Times, U remember, Times, U cannot recall. Some, U cherish. Some, U try to forget. A Quantum-Physic: U see what U see. But "Under the Volcano" (L.S.Lowry) there's a Yellowstone (mega-seismic-activity) ACTIVE, yet to spout. No-No! No need for Confession. Vocal flatulence don't count>

Nuttin' doin' down on Main Street. Bald, empty, deserted. S-where everyone's dreams come-a Courting!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA CATS "ME-OWW!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "DA CATS "ME-OWW!"

...da CAT's "Me-OWW!" treads upon your Laptop (keys?), Feline Code, the Cat's PAW meaning nothing at all? Perhaps a PURR in da Nite, a squeal, a fright, your ruffled fur, yearning for comfort, a saucer of Cream. Outside in the rain, a thing U don't want or need.

...LIPSTICK on your collar...told a tale ON U & wotcha-gonna-DO? The Night has 1,000 eyes yet U persist & PURR just like a fool? Cats, PUSSY encroaches into the ghost of Life's machine, it oils the wheels of suspicion, jealousy, a Cat's PAW on PAW, an IAGO to destroy your faith in Desdemona's dream? 

Poor OTHELLO, marooned in - Iago's - prompt mistrust. The island of MALTA estranged in the Sea. So many DARES & DISPLAYS "a Tree grows in Brooklyn" before they chopped it down!

c. 2026. Dave Delacroix. 

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

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

(dedicato: Greg Hunter)

"The Hollow Soul."

...IN MY TIME I HAVE BEEN DIRECTED TO DWELL in the bowels of ancient history, Roman, Magna-Greco & as a child, played upon Anglo-Saxon battlefields. U would THINK, culturally, some of this "gleaning" might have rubbed off? -Yet, diluted by contemporary "education"; teachers, college PROFS they somehow "gilded the Lily" to re-varnish: The Charge of the Light Brigade/ZULU Wars, TRENCHES-W.W.1. where, pretty much our LADS got slaughtered, or the Admiralty, never mind U.K. "Codebreakers/ENIGMA" haplessly provided NAZI Codebreakers with Atlantic Convoy data over at Club-lunches & Gin & Tonics! (NO T.V. History Documentaries ON THAT!!!): 55,000 Merchant Seaman victims of Nazi U-Boats! Adolf Hitler: "Thanks U dumb-ass Tommies for your indiscreet weekly updates!"

But GOD was always on Our side?

...In My Time I have dined with - Celebs! - F. Scott Fitzgerald's: The BEST, better STILL, Dined & laughingly DASHED even with Chase-Manhattan Bank, Lloyds of London personnel, Movie Stars UP the WAZEE which makes perhaps YOUR OWN nano-transgressions look like "Pea-Knuckle!" -Leastways, it doesn't/didn't lead to a WAR or a sovereign nations' "Coupe de tete!"... Train wrecks, BI-PEDAL take a long time to die. And a HOLLOW SOUL, an inverted-stigmata, some evil-within, curdling.... (Where R we going with this?)

 -Bitterness? Disappointments? -Some blood-clot on the brain/"OUT DAMNED SPOT!?" (The Scottish Play?) Perhaps REVENGE-REGRETS, REVENGE-REGRETS! -WHO will rid us of this Conscience's pestilence that haunts our frail, flitting dreams, no longer valiant as in our Youth, toward the Valley of the "has-beens", Hollywood; our grave already in place... A "Sanctuary of Eternity" until some Dirt Pig bulldozers over/"This is a QUALITY LOT! Did U know...Errol Flynn or Tyronne Power's bones may be "in-turned" beneath your basement? Think of the equity!!!"

...In my time, I have been directed, accepted, flourished in the MEGA-confusion of Our Time. I owned several Vinyl record collections, & at some - poverty - point PAWNED, Guitars! And Guitars like girlfriends, stolen, lost, came & went? Property/Riches, I never cared too much for, just $$$ (the Yankee Dollar), life's benzine, easily addictive, foolishly reaching out for MORE, yet all the while - oblivious-of - dangling from Poetry's meat hook!!! A Devil's dance. A St. Walpurgis Night. It won't be our last. "Puppets on a String!" (Whatever happened to 1960s Songstress Sandie Shaw "sans" footwear?)

ANGELS ABOVE scream & BAT their wings in frustration; that YOU do not OBEY Time/Destiny's universal dictation. For just who R we? Some plankton, a virus on a semi-spherical globe, dancing, a 'la cyclidic-Moon-dance partner. - Frivolous Debutantes, Space-Dressy-Bessy! ("Can U hear me Major Tom!?) No Man is an Island only the bone marrow of a hollow Soul. Like Seamen coursed upon a hidden reef, we scream BLACK HORROR, Sharks' teeth or Lawyers devour the rest.

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now BELIZE/Dave Delacroix: "Truckers, KICKERS & the Cowboy Angels!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix" "Truckers, Kickers & the Cowboy Angels!"

(dedicato: Veterans: Vietnamese, United Nations Forces & U.S.A. Soldiers.)

"Truckers, Kickers & Cowboy Angels."

...HAVE U EVER BEEN TO DISNEY-LAND? No? Me neither. I hear they have huge queues for every RIDE; I'd rather go to Church. Give ME a low-rent Buddy-Weiser BAR (the Red Sox kickin-Ass on big screen T.V.) every time where despondent Truckers, Kickers, Cowboy angels SULK, lonesome & have no Life's wisdom to readily impart 'cept to maybe ask: "Do U know the difference twix Whisky, Bourbon & Rye?" "Yup!" "So, mine's a DOUBLE! Set EM up!!"

...Lost in Purpose, lost in Prose, no "raison d'etre". Have U ever been to DISNEYLAND, Orange County, or F.L.A. to experience/be exposed, FRIED by another's (lesser) Mortals concept Man-Made fantasy? I doubt real fantasy IS an inexact science, less - bells & whistles - a FAIRY atop a Christmas tree, that mistle-toe KISS, as meaningful as a friendly Lawsuit? Still, MOM'S Curry, Fried Rice, Apple Pie will always see U through; dark days R inevitable. (Load up on Kleenex! Wetting the bed, apparently, is no excuse?)

...Not long for this world, a SHROUD, a Vietnam "conflict" (AHEM!!!) HUEY "dust-off" canopies our progress; barstools, spittoons, the baristas name, blind introductions, faces un-remembered, "Chicken wings", "Mirabelle" or just "Joe"? And, finding yourself OUT with the Truckers, the Kickers & the Cowboy Angels & (quoting Gene Parsons/songwriter) "there's a good Saloon in every single town" a blessing might sometimes enshroud U. The ceiling fan, WHIRLING above U. Faulty! It goes "AKA-AKA-AKA!" -U can't go back... That SMUDGE in the sky of dawn's early light. "SET EM UP BUDDY! U got it. Mine's a double!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "I SCREAM-A, U SCREAM-A, WE All Scream-A! - for Ice Cream!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "I Scream-A, U Scream-A, we ALL Scream-A for Ice-Cream!"

..."EVERYBODY'S RIGHT...THAT'S WOT I ALWAYS SAY!"...Sometimes, I even lend them $5.00 for reminding me. Comes OVER like a Media World horror photo U can never ever UN-SEE which cannonballs into your OWN personal (Jesus?) Edvard Munch's painting: The Scream!

(Singing:) "Always wear RAYBANS (Sunglasses) when U fire up your Doobie/Cigarette. U never know if that Bic lighter is gonna light your cigar or enflame your Wig or expensive Toupee! And never fry Bacon for breakfast IN DA NUDE".... No explanations, me-thinks R necessary.; tra-la-whoosits!" (Background Ambulance sirens/Anxious family; "Was it a Mafia-HIT!?).

...AS for ARTISTS (we self-throttle!), a DIAGALEV "Ballet Russ" dancing to a TUNE we will never understand yet a theme upon which we earn our "bread & butter", the Public's adoring gaze under the World-concept grand illusion, Culture's canopy, aloft; we flitter & we fly, a humanoid MOTH zeroing into the flame of Fame.

...Everybody's right. I always say DAT. And YOU, amongst many, the ONLY Woman I ever loved! Heroic, fortune or fame now, perhaps, pickle under your gaze; indolent, indifferent, lethargic, of relegated value? No gilding the Lily under the Klieg-light of eventual wisdom? Maturity, NAY! Old age doesn't take prisoners. Still. What's that Praying Mantis doing, silently, hanging on to your thigh?...

(Singing:) "I scream, U Scream, We ALL scream for Ice-Cream!" (Ain't dat how it goes?)...

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.

Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ARC du TRIUMPH!"

 Our Man in Europe/now Belize/Dave Delacroix: "ARC du Triumph!"

...THERE'S NO DENYING the WEIGHT, in OUR living memory, the DECADES, that seeping/slow flood of our Loves, friendships, hates, feuds, bickering, scores still to be settled, REGRETS & Blues, like SOUL REFUGEES to wear out sandals, shoes or fashionista "Winkle-Pickers"? (1960s Pointed footwear). A veritable Noah's Ark of memory!

...SALVATION, like a Las Vegas highway-roadside billboard to tempt an ailing Soul to divest his/her Life's potential, promise, riches, lonesome treasure, all U can pack into an airline-travel "wheelie-bag", like a protest/defense, a sword of JUSTICE which ALL invisible citizens, these days, can honorably still wield? Your bags wheels "mutter-mumble" on airport corridors as U advance headlong towards an un-certain - flight cancellation - destination?

...EMPORERS, kings, figureheads, in retrospect, histories' detritus, from Julius Caesar to J.F.K., to GANDHI! Recorded (?) upon Carrera marble or woven into a Bakara RUG to soak up some cultural big-shot's blood. And a funeral train. Soldiers, politicians, profiteers, women in weeps, sallow, some with heads held high, they too march, resolute: VICTA-VICTORI towards that Arc du Triumph, a seat of darkness where Angels are apt to vacuum its proximity.

...When, lastly U R "conveyed" in all pomp & glory upon the "Via Sacre" towards an ARC du TRIUMPH, even your Spirit, hovering above, is resigned to fading trumpets, that fickle/forgetting focus of the multitudes, and the inevitable "Ubliete", that un-knowing ZONE of your finite destiny which AFTER U R gone don't mean a Fig, nor whether the creek don't rise or your Noah's Ark is destroyed in shallows or the hidden coral reefs of destiny's un-certainty!

...(Singing:) "There's NO business like SHOW business! -TRA-LA-LA!"

c.2026. Dave Delacroix.