LET'S GO!

 

                                                                           (Play it, Dizzy!)

LET'S GO woman, hurry up, come back from that store, that the sun, the heat, is killing in this car, this ship to cross once again this whole damn country.

LET'S GO that the dusty past is on our heels.

LET'S GO that jazz is sounding loud and the road is calling. We have to leave before it's too late, before you stop smiling at me, the way you smile me before you got out of the car.

LET'S GO, LET'S GO, that night is near and we are so far from the city.

LET'S GO, this car is very lonely without your laugh and your stories from other times, all exaggerated just to have fun and get me more trapped.

LET'S GO, why do you take so long at that store? Surely, you're making the poor boy at the gas station fall in love with you, to rob him, while you look at him with your eyes. Those sunny eyes, full of nights and sins, A simple wink from those eyes can destroy, conquer, give strength and take them away. Maybe he's so stunned that he doesn't realize you're wearing one of my shirts.

Surely that boy cannot stop looking at your mouth either, while you steal food from him to continue traveling, to eat, or to smoke something.

LET'S GO, girl you can do it, the 40s are ending, Dizzy Gillespie is bursting out of this car speaker and any grocer guy in this forgotten part of the country only thinks about saving their afternoon, from boredom and choppy radio broadcasting country music, with a girl like you.

LET'S GO we have a long way to go.

LET'S GO these wheels are dying to bite the asphalt again, devouring the white lines of the road, looking for a next town where there are people crazy to talk, to know of places that they will never know, but that they will always promise to go. This promise will only lead them, when they go back to bed, to feel disappointed by their broken promises.

We will, probably, find one mad person along the way, who goes down the highway with his finger pointing to the destination, to the future, to the next city, to a night full of jazz. Someone who talks nonstop all the way. Maybe he can drive, too. I could use a little rest ... but not now, this music, its rhythm, its trumpets have just filled me with energy. Like the gasoline we got in the last station, with the little money we had left. The important thing is to keep flowing. We will charge walkers a little to take them to their destination.

FINALLY, you leave that damn store, with that smile of victorious evil, with your blonde hair blowing in the wind and those eyes fixed on the car. Bringing all the merchandise hidden between my shirt and your skin, trying to make as few signs as possible. So that the storekeeper doesn’t notice the theft. He may not notice it for several days, when he can finally get your eyes and smile out of his head.

That smile with which you will be, surely, looking at me in the next bar while you go with another guy, perhaps a sailor. You might even say sorry, maybe I will believe you.

But we know how the rules of the road are, we always did feel the same. We just saw it from a different point of view. I know it won't be the end. I know that we will meet again at some crossroads or walking on abandoned train tracks in a very gray city. You always say "We'll meet again someday on the avenue". We will smile at each other and everything will continue to flow, wherever the night takes us.

You are finally sitting next to me again.

“You came right to the end of the song, just like you said, it only took you 3 minutes and 21 seconds.”

You wink at me and point to the road, to the future: “There is only today, right? LET'S GO!”