Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Jules and Jim, Virus 2020.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Jules and Jim, Virus 2020.


WHEN THE VIRUS RAGED I never bothered bout Me, just drank more. My thoughts only of Brother Jean, Bela Isabel, Lady Caroline and that Family-teasing-partake, dans Virus non-complete.

Whilst the Virus Raged, I didnt Work, Think, Shake my Soul, didnt PRAY except for Jean and a brand new day without a rising Body Count.

When the Virus cooked our Goose, the saddest thing, no dinner guests to share Life-s bounty, all the leftovers we thoughtlessly threw away. Isabel, Caroline. Jules and Jim.

When the Virus ended I went in search of Jules, he too, of Me. We never Did recognise one another but like passing Refugees, eventually, we hugged and kissed nolonger knowing who once we were.


c. The month of May, 2020, dave delacroix. Our Man in Europe.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... In Camus-s Plague.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... In Camus-s Plague.


In Camus-s Plague the dead were dead, the Sick, sick, the ailing, ailing, the Nursery of Pandemic took the SONG out of any rhyme.
It was dirty bandages, defecating limbs of meat, STENCH, an emergency lost in emergencies, no Hi-tech flashing-light-Walkie-Talkies squawkies,  and Uniforms, all KINDS of Drama Queens, Space Cadets, Squawkers, Losers, Pandemonium-Usurpers, little HITLERS, Commandants, Politicians who-d APPEAR-film crew In-tow disrupting squeaky wheels of navigating body-trolleys conveying corpses to the RE-frigerated Semi-truck out back.
And then that SHOCK-PRISM of Silence.
Wasn-t so much the smearing blood to speak of. The blood was OURS. And God forgive Us. Sometimes we became Immobile. Sometimes we just stared...


c.2020. davedelacroix.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Kafka-s Happy Hour.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... Kafka Happy Hour.


I was at the Train Station. Trains pulling IN and OUT. No Passengers. I fumbled with an antiquated Cigarette Machine. Not like in Las-Vegas, America. Money was not dispensed. Just the face of a Bull-Woman, positively YURRKING I was busted, outside of Czechish-Lockdown LAW. I said FUCK JU BITCH this Montparnesse!...PARIS! U-Foreigner, Bitch-said. CAN I get a Ticket to Toulouse. She showed me, from UNDER her SCNF uniform her ample left breast....


c.davedelacroix. 2020.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Rainy Day.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Rainy Day.


dedicato. F. Scot Fitzgerald.


When I signed that divorce Cheque, cleaned me OUT... DAFNY went off to Long Island, smiling, chauffered in my REO Speedsta Auto, day before the 2005 Stock-market-thingy CRASH. I held back $50 for a Highball at the Waldorf-Astoria. But deceided... I kept it for a rainy day.  I rolled up my shirtsleeves and hitch-hiked to California. Went to Hollywood. Became a Movie Stunt Man.
Decades, it seems, later...when yet ANOTHER Gal left me, THIS ONE Over-dosed. Pills, ON TOUR, the Band, broken, Agents=Promoters, flew away and after all that SMOKE and Hippie-Cool rhetoric-  SPIT!..I gave them their LENTILS back. Deceided NOT to GO Country N Western! LONG ISLAND SONGS ONLY!...Outright Quit!  Went to England to Poeticize my lighted fuse.
Was THAT in the 50s, 60-s, 70-s, 80-s...whatever. Retro-hallucinations!....Annonymity AS Fame! LIVE in DREAMS. Desire IS PAIN!
Apparently I have Artistic Longelivity.
When I was Pandemix-Lockdown in 2020, the Year of the YOU, I wish I-d had that REO Speedsta Auto for a rainy day. Dafny OWNED IT... FOR a Day!...And the Fate of Dafny...within the  Stock Market crash. I never knew. OMG!!! ...Like a Rainy Day ever rankin at mah craw!...


c.2020. davedelacroix.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... Pandemix Jail Confession

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix.... Pandemix Jail Confession.


NO CHINESE, NO ITALIANO, just U and Me
Al Dente, Medium Rare, BEANSHOOT.
No Espana, No Francais, no New Orleans Jazz and Blues,
No SALSA, no Reggae, a thing without SOUL
now your Best Friend, that Cadillac, that Bank Account,
that Holiday Inn, that ESCAPE.
NO Lear Jet, NO CRUISE, no escape. No DESIGNER,
no Exclusivo, no CREDIT CARD, no
Cocktail Party Kiss,  no MOSH PIT Hug,
no YO BRO, YO, YO YOKO! -the kiss of DEATH, same as it always WAS.
No Chinese, no Italiano for ME in Jail,
sentenced like everybody ELSE - for a Crime I didn-t commit.
No CHINESE, No ITALIANO.
...Outside, OUTSIDE this Death-Cell...wonder how its gonna be. Larry X,
next cell, comming CLEAN on missing bodies. Rather get the CHAIR
than the C-19.
Wonder how it works Outside...to a lesser degree....


c.2020. dave delacroix









Gotta be quick. Pasta boiled down and FRYIN...!!!

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... The Cornwall Wreck

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... The Cornwall Wreck.


Oh! Old Reilly when U gonna come home, the kids, gone, grow, the old Woman threw U out years ago and yet U fumble round in Potters Field-mumbling who knows what, tales of vague yesteryear and now and then, a mental Jig or Dance to make all round START and wonder if U R NOT there, though in evidence, a Pint of Ale, a Baccy pouche, a loaf of Bread, some Ham or Cheese how fairs the Wind with U O-Reilly, Lover, Adventurer, Merchant, Father and Son...And I here HEAR some Smugglers down by Cornwalls Pontyprid-forth are looking for a Good Man to assist-steering a Vessel upon the jagged coastline rocks! Perhaps U-ed be a helping hand. Foreigners yer-see, sailing by. Need a Stalwart, a Steady hand to wave a cliff-top lantern... but, on second thoughts, maybe you-ve seen all this before....! Oh! Old Reilly-s new Missus, hollerin from yonder shack. C-mon Old Boy! Get awah from him. He can tak no more! ....his bones with the devil!


c.2020. davedelacroix,truro, uk.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... The Darwin Awards.

Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix... The Darwin Awards.


dedicato. Doc Boone...in the John Wayne Movie... Stagecoach.


EVERYBODY GOT dat GIG, everyone affected. Everyone dancing BOOGALOO, everyone CLUCKING... Virus of Shame. Everyone got a RED Dress, everyone BLUE N don-t know what to Do. Except the Super-rich, PLAGUE-FREE, flying to some UNspoilt Virus-Free...First time in a Long time...Sharing-Mode!

Everybody got dah BUG, that INNER-perspect- ORIGAMI of the WALKIE-TALKIE-SOUL that springs its COIL once, now and again to SUCCUBUS-reflection, eyes-contact in the  morning Mirror, reaching for the Mouthwash!

Everybody got dat JAZZ, that Saxophone Solo that slitheres into your Night and leaves U wishing it was Dawn.
WISH I-d took dem Piano Lessons!!!
And, ALAS...
Everybody-s Culpable, everyone-s Innocent. The UNforgiving lines...for the Darwin Awards.


c.2020, may, davedelacroix.