OUR MAN in Europe, dave delacroix/a.k.a David Michael Oxley: "LADY from Cadiz."

 OUR MAN.....Dave, as usual"" "The Lady from Cadiz."

My GAL from CADIZ, cross-bordered Gibraltar and SERVED Paella. Fandango, GAETO, spun me my WALLET till, whatever was left?

 I didn't care. MY GAL AMORATI, nuzzled my NOSE in her breasts, SWORE eternal CANZONE and AFTER Sex I believed all the rest! 

MY GAL, Grande-Amore, we forgot her ROOTS where the GYPSY culture couldn't REACH, but Cultural-GYPSY MAFIOSA killed her at me feet?

My GAL from CADIZ, her SONG is not ALONE. SOUTH of the White Cliffs of DOVER Me-Boys, better leave this ROMANCE alone!

c.june, 2024. Belize.

Our Man in Europe/Belize/still gotta Pulse: 2024: The Last Crusader.

 OUR MAN in Europe/Belize, Dave Delacroix/Davd Michael Oxley...aged 68: The Last Crusader

BUGS GOTTA CLUE when U R fading, ask any Black Widow with a BUICK-6 or on highway 666 South of Durango, Colo, lookin DEEP into New Mexico, misty-morning, GEO-monuments rising like CITADELS, illusive, a Conquistadors El Dorado, headin' South 50-1000 miles to go like a Lover's HEART, un-requited, far from the Plaza with LOTUS, food, wine, an elixir of Coffee beans, a Tamale, GUITAR! Or all the things a CONQUISTADOR seeks? Poor Man. Poor ARMOR. Poor BIBLE that's pages ROT in the humidity, eating flesh a'la "creepy-crawlies" as we REJOIN in culture-tunes, "Stairway to Heaven (LED ZEP), Blowin in the Wind (Bob D.), I wanna hold yr hand (Beatles), or CRUSADER -Biblical Psalms, songs of DESPERATIONN? God knows even in Mexico? Bloody MUSLIMS!?....YAAAA! BUGS gotta Clue. In Shah Allah!!!....The Last Crusader!

c. dave I wrote this. Here's my FINGER!!!!

Our Man in Belize, dave Delacroix: "WIRCHA-WAY WIND!"

 I saw U go

U left me a note

on the witcha-way wind

U promised our love would never end

on the witcha-way wind

U healed my wounds, U made me whole, U kissed my soul

On the witcha-way-wind.

U saw me rise, u saw me fail

U saw a LIFE, but not to share

U grew & grew in my mind's eye

on the witcha-wind where love can die.

and Holy Man or wise man sing

love's-like upon the wing

O poorly love, or man & wife

on witcha-wing flight

to do or die.

c.2024. dave delacroix, Yo!

OUR Dude in Belize, dave delacroix: "TOBACCO!"

 

Our Dude in Belize, aged 68, dave Delacroix: "Tobacco!"

TOBACCO on the bedsheets, Vino-stains, once in a while a sliver of a lipstick-mascara kiss, a pout, a distinction or a get-out TAXI to take U out of here without your suitcase to Montmartre's steps?

WHO cries for Lover's-bereft, that fragile heart SCREAMING?

TOBACCO on the bedsheets, Vino-whatever stains-whatever! Souvenirs, the sweat, death's caresses of all our yesterdays...We draw mind's Helicopter shadows whilst smoking, gazing at the ceiling fan... DANCING long after we R gone?

Our man in BELIZE, dave delacroix, loves labor lost,2024, June in bloom. Yo!

OUR MAN in Europe, dave Delacroix...in EUROPE now in BELIZE: "Coconut Psalm." No.1

 Our  MAN...  Coconut Psalm. No. !.

...Now when I was dust-stepping down furrowed jungle roads under whispering Palms, sonorous Pines, cluttered with Iguanas hunting chattering, exotic birds above beady-lurking crocodiles, a Piranha or 2? ALAS! I wasn't in Paris, Rome or London!

Now when I decided to cast a Line? But then the reference is CLEAR.?  What Poet can cast the first stone or illusify the enigma of the Human Condition? How much will any Mn pay for A/C before he resolves to just SWEAT & die albeit miserably?

now when I had a few BUCKS, a buck myself, whose FORTUNE would decide the Fate of Friends, friends of Friends, loved or with hate would pot puree and amalgam sow to twist, turn or ferment the WORLD and how we made, perhaps, and let it so?

c.2024. Davedelacroix, belize.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/now in BELIZE: (Song!): "U cannot drink the Wine Cellar dry!"

 

Our Man in Europe/ now n BELIZE: (Song!): "U cannot drink my Wine Cellar dry!."

U cannot drink my wine cellar dry "apres morte"? But Friends will endeavor to persevere?

AVE DAVE! Ave Mortality! AVE that last bowl of SOUP on a Winter's Day or the KICK-INSIDE

of Friendships/LOVES, a Springtime betrayal haunting the life-spine of your boog-a-loo?

WHO sucks your VENOM? Stored where? Who RE-christens your perfect psalm, makes it less holy, presented, to critics, sycophants, fools?

Who caps your bitterness, wisdom, yesterday's love or smile?

U cannot drink our wine cellar dry, "apres morte" nor augment celestial spheres! Mortal coils & Dusty Death's skeletal grin into your Vintage, success, failure, rich or poor, "apres-morte" vino to share?

U cannot drink my wine cellar dry: AVE YOU! Do your best. Anacreon (Greek Songster) in heaven & I will salute U!

c.davedelacroix. OUR DUDE someplace. may 2024. 

OUR MAN in EUROPE, now COROZAL-BELIZE, Dave Delacroix (a.k.a. David Michael Oxley, aged 68 w/throat Cancer): THE DEAD of FACEBOOK!

 

Our Man in Europe/Belize, Dave Delacroix: THE DEAD of FACEBOOK.

The Fb. FACEBOOK (500 zillion people/ lots ARE now DEAD) the multitudes, a testament of Internet TIME? Fotos, AWESOMES, sunsets, dawns-breakin with ANTS-nano-attention-span resolve (Dear Diary, weather was nice?) Portraits of houseplants, Cats, Dogs, Iguanas; latest recipe, Bar-drunks, sober, old Pals, fucks U'll never meet again, TUXEDO, non-sartorial in sickness & IN-health, Politico-Social-NON-smoking-WOKE-Masturbation thoughts? -that 15 second fame to elicit: "Dat's awesome!!!", "Can we MEET in person/fuck?", "WISH-whatever!?"responses?

The DEAD of FACEBOIK. Seriously NOT On-line, dead-as meat, MOULDING or ASHES? No Black armband. MILLIONS R ALREADY DEAD!!! DEM DAT'S NOT!? IMOJI-Central. Sucking at your NECK or noting...like FACEBOOK...your logistics & tomorrow's Blackmail. A new NIGHT? Do we laugh, our folly; the night is long that never finds the Day. But DO CLICK AWAY! The DEAD (R.I.P.)  of FACEBOOK...now so far away and their "sea of troubles" splash like summers rain on your beloved's morning face?...If she AIN'T guilty of something?

And just WHO (Poet RILKE) if I cried out would HEAR ME!? The Dead of Facebook. Whispering their IMOJIS, "Awesomes", "Hugs!" or "Caring" from ALL Mortal's tomorrow's bourn? WE could YAK all night. But with the DEAD, the NOW "passed-on" of Facebook, conversation, like Fotos of your CAT, immemorable. NO collective WOUNDING! We DANCE in different DISCOS, a Guitar Bluesman & a Techno Keyboarder trying to reconcile their Beethoven collective? Poor old LUDWIG. Cheap-ASS APPS abound; Cocoa-Cola diluted. Water more expensive than a single Malt and a brave new world!

OK!!! Who's got the bloody BEER!!!?

davedelacroix, corozal, belize, CINCO da Mayo: May, 2024. (publish & be damned!)