OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, dave delacroix: The Deadly Yellow Belizean Bee!

 Our Man in Europe, Belize, dave delacroix: The DEADLY Yellow Belizean Bee!

In Corozal, Belize, tropical, Palms, Sun, Sea, Ribs-Rice & Rum and the occasional Crocodile fatality, that Scorpion in your bed, or whilst garden-bathing, a swarm of Iguanas who thought U were (passed out drunk)  dead? (They start first on yr toe-nails/polite?), black flies, mosquitoes, bitchin SNAKES but watch out for the DEADLY yellow Belizean Bee! Fire Ants in the grass!? POOF. No worries. I-m COMPOSING a Three-Penny Opera bout those Yella-devils as soon as my "CLUB sized -inflamed" hand can yet wiggle a PEN? VIX chest rub seems to help the swelling and as for my MIND, Whisky & whatever comes to hand (a strangled Iguana!) does the rest!

c.2022, July. davedelacroix: "IN da swimming pool.". Carozal, Belize,

OUR MAN in EUROPE,/Belize: dave delacroix: "On the Outside."

 OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, dave delacroix: "On the Outside."

(dedicato: Loic Valvart)

SHE DON-T like WHISKEY, she don-t like GIN she-s callin U? She don-t mess  with VODKA on a weekend spin; she just CALLS U? She don-t care bout pissing U OFF, her Maserati will take her to BE on the Outside, SMILEY! S-WHAT IS!? And she CALLS U?

She never wanted what U HAD (on the INSIDE)? Big Dicks & charm in Monte-Carlo: Passe? She-d rather SUICIDE like Princess Grace, better still, SEE the OTHER side? (U die first?) SMACK-KISSES beware the Devil U mate! Put your MONEY on Black, she places RED?...BRRRR!.. The Outside, as she swishes her skirt! (Calling U?)

And WHOM, WHO, U cry to MOMMA, burn your Tuxedo, melt INTO a Candle your worthless Credit Cards? And that ghetto sweetheart U left behind?...No Cryin in Baseball!? And KISSES are vintage Telegrams! WOTCHAGONNA-DO?

She don-t like Vermouth before 7 a.m. A carriage ride to the END OF HELL, but she-ll love U as U smile and talk to U of Debussy & Wilde? But by the Sorbonne gates,/Paris de St. Germaine, where every Poet meets his fate (Bonjour Tristesse?)  from a King to a Knave...on Lover-s Outside! Good Friends? U-ll need Em! To join the Braves who stepped before... 

c.dave delacroix. 2022. davedelacroix.

Our Man in Europe/belize/dave delacroix: "S-All bout Me!?"

OUR MAN in EUROPE/BELIZE, dave delacroix: "S-all bout Me!"

(dedicato: Marc Pierson, Poet.)

It-s ALL about ME when some "promise" took my Hymen, it-s what U believe when I rallied to a Soldier, then quelled the waters, my mind-adverse and kings, princes, courtiers, my suitors perverse who Mandolin Song, my breasts, my ankles: all about me, love-s kisses we hardly...SEX IS QUICK!...never NEW as I piloted my body for a Strangers view, a pulsing heart, a lady-s pumping ribcage of Pride and all God-s gift a GIRL propounds inside? What Boy can know a Girl-s living Suicide?

It-s all about ME, your Wife, Mistress, the bespectable Librarian or some  well-dressed (arent they always/what they got?) GAL U will see on the Boulevard? TWO abortions, a FELLINI movie, U approach? A Lady who could KARATE your whimsical-Romantica?...Better U go back to your pithy boyhood school where U learn ALL BOUT U...but NOT the tragic killer Gals u may MEET before finding a LAMIA-S hug? HA!!!...Too late!? Chauvinist attitude gets U...table at the SAVOY?...probably not. Were U forewarned? Ya Mamma should know? Class, Culture, Time after Time to wean U into dust! EGO-CENTRAL: S-all, after-all... bout Me!

S-all bout Me; maybe U TOO who sailed, dreamlike, those little toy boats, in childhood, that we ALL  launched into forever, ICONICALLY, yet never again expected to see?.....(10 following paragraphs here...available /please fill in blanks!)...:S-all bout guess U!... Tomorrow?  I get a Haircut. No worries.

c.davedelacroix, 2022, Belize.

OUR MAN in EUROPE, dave delacroix: "Les Belles-Montpelier, France."

Our GARCON in Europe, dave delacroix: "Les belles-Montpelier-France". 

Les Belles du Montpelier, my heart, mon coeur, since 1970-s have been enraptured, hypnotized by, in  my "voyage de ma vie"? And considering young male French Blades (1970-s Les nouveau garcon) it was always best to keep a LOW profile as (2022) Muslim immigrant boys & girls somehow, perhaps, try to integrate in situ IF Islam Males IN France possibly TRY? And Allah-help the Muslim Gals who EVEN try? FRANCE is FRANCE! (Last time I looked?) Glad to be aged and not some Punks idea of a Sexual/Romantic/Cultural threat?

But back THEN? (1970-s) Friday? Sat nites: Les Community, mostly LADS, MEN; place de la republic, chorusing French Patriotic anthems, ROARING to late hours?  OR/And the dawn Fish Market...UP the town-s SLOPE?...a VITE-affair, lots of jovial haggling, pre-noon, cool, aging Madames scurrying with shopping bags to their Concierge citadels/Pensions?...Leaving?...Sun-baked fish bones, cabbage leaves. Onion-scents. Their AMOUR: A recherche du temps perdu in lieu of Munchie-munchie? Who sings of old Gals sans le "Habit"? Frockless Monks who cane-tap cobbled streets and rasp-voice: "MERDE!!!"

...........BACK to my Past?...Apres du midi un faun. MOI. Dans le Restaurant. Le Banquet. A Salad to die for. Le premier Course. Le Vin!..Un cafe avec Cognac under a Summer-s canopy of expectation, of respectful introduction amidst the charm, seduction in Montpelier-s warren/old town streets; faces, LOVES that were never consumated or, again to rendezvous, a KICK which whittles away, decades later your assumed Seniority? Or hindsight? Wisdom?  Wisdom got nothing to DO with it. S-all bout TIME! Stuff past and lost. "To SHE who is to gay?" (The one that got away?)

Les Belles du Montpelier, the almost Chanson, that KISS your lips can no longer devour. The beating SUN "sur la place" drums a NEW man to its exquisite domain.  U? Your Kids? Who? What GENIUS will tear Truth from eternity-s throat? Yet Montpelier-revisited-Never replicated: U dally in a Cafe-s shade; perhaps a Poem struggles to comfort your regrets? And eyes downcast, an important Lady walks on by, a past inspiration, once your FONT of ecstacy! But WHO R U who fails to witness what lost before walks on by in Times "augen-blick", here & gone?

c.2022. dave delacroix.

OUR MAN IN CIVILIZATION/BELIZE, dave delacroix..."PUSHKIN-S KISS!"

 Our Man in Europe/Belize, dave delacroix: PUTIN-KISS/MY SOFA!...PUSHKIN-S KISS!"

THERE GOES MY Ukraine APARTMENT (Boom!), my Flat (Boom!-Missile-Swimming Pool). The DREAM KITCHEN I made for my NATASHA, my THREE KIDS Babushkas, a HOME, their HOME & JOY? That sorry-old SOFA,  my "SOFIA" on which I pontificated PEACE on EARTH like a fool? IN MARIUPOL, a DESTROYED City coming, perhaps, tomorrow TO YOU?...My Sofia, my WIFE, DEAD-SOFIA; That Peace-SOFA, my DEAD Family: ETERNAL, great or SMALL. The KREMLIN will pay, UNLIKELY, these Cultural Kremlin ROBBER-BARONS ..We know WHO U R and WE know where your BANK ACCOUNTS sleep!...Do NOT go gently into your Russki Night. PUSHKIN!!!...A Pushkin-s Kiss!..A Taxi Driver (Putin) who sacrificed...counting...25,000 brave Russian boys LIVES...and double the Boys, Women, Children...from the Ukraine.....(Happy to note PUTIN has USD 525 MILLION in his Bank Account. Obviously, being a TAXI DRIVER/SPY....it paid off!)....Yet ANOTHER IVAN, Terrible? HISTORICALLY, either...Just WHAT we gonna DO with U, Socially-Politically; leastways, STAY the FRICK out of EUROPE!!!?...Enjoy ya Borscht!...Pushkin-Putin?...REMEMBER, dont forget the QUEEN of SPADES!...U cannot Win. HISTORY, if U care, will, like HITLER puke on U. A Mother-s CURSE. And all good Men of Reason defy your Insensibilly till the End of Time. MAN will survive your Mushroom cloud!...

c.2022, dave delacroix. (I am the same AGE as PUTIN but I respect my Neighbors!)

OUR MAN in EUROPE/ BELIZE, dave delacroix: "HOW to DEPOSE a TYRANT."

 Our Man in Europe, Belize: dave delacroix; "How to depose a TYRANT."

NEVER listen to HIM. Your Ruler.

NEVER LISTEN TO HIS ENERMIES.The West/usa.

LISTEN to your FOOD BILLS.(Ching!)

IF U have FAMILY in the military, Listen to THEM....Are they Officially still alive?

FREEDOM/INTERNET; If THAT IS STOPPED, U know YOUR GOVERNMENT (Tyrant-dude) is lying.. AT LEAST, show...thru INTERNET... UKRAINE destruction/Russian Boys casualties, WOUNDED, dead? Who HIDES these facts, but EVERYBODY in the KREMLIN is a THIEF, but who will cry for Unknown Mother-Russia-s brave boys? PUTIN?,,,25,000 Russian BOYS, for PUTIN!?

HOW to CHANGE, how to BREATHE "Freedom"; IVAN, NATASHA, let us keep a joyous world, international PEACE and NOT MISSILES landing on UKRAINE-S Soverigne motherland?...Best Calvalry in the World!....Sure wouldnt want my BUDDY-COSSACKS rampaging thru LOs ANGELES or Orange county. Might have to lock up my fair daughters!...a joke, right now. But we do not smile.

c.2022. dave delacroix.

OUR MAN in EUROPE/Belize, dave delacroix: "6 (SIX) degrees of Poverty."

 OUR MAN in Europe, dave delacroix (IN Belize): 6 (SIX) degrees of POVERTY.

(dedicato: LERMAN....my Corozal Bartender.)

WHO CRIES OUT FOR the lesser Man/Woman who SCRUBS my floors or does my Hair? Who sings a solliliquy for the Scribe who Immortalizes my faux-pas or lends me HIS ink that I might ridicule both our pathetic existence, how we prevailed, how we died with POETRY, that stuff which makes knowledge palatable? And a Legacy, Cultural, Historical, all Life-s Victims, the DEVIL in our conjected imagination to fill the Faith-Blank, Religion, the curse-seed of a thousand wars insinuated into Politic devise and Love-s entice beyond the fathom of our inner-selves?

WHO CRIES OUT for the lesser Man, the BABUSHKA, who spat U out, made U eat, wiped your snotty nose; school fees? Made U go in some genetic, a blind faith that wouldnt pay for her Soul cept inside her own pregnancy? And the experience Crews, U encountered, come & gone, seasons passing, to beat their drum, the holler, the HORROR, or the sanguine heart that wither-s in age and occidental, that upset river that seeps, like Noah-s flood which SWARMS, usurps, drives memory into remembrance of all U sowed and, in consciousness, from which U cannot escape.

 Can weeping, remorse, make U cry for yesteryear or the deviled-hollow of your old bones beside the poverty, once shared, U might have known? An OLD SONG, a remembered chord, a voice, a silhouette, some banquette chime, a fatal BET or a welcome kiss, now disdained like a strangers souvenier or too many journeys or that ONE U never made at all, the lesser Man, the lesser ALL, unfolding into what and who U R. Who cries out for the UBER-MENSCH? Certainly not me. Lesser mortals, I fear, weep for Me. Those DEAD, bones & dust!

c.dave delacroix. Corozal, Belize. 2022.