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.