Highway 80 West Road story part one

English: Willie Nelson getting ready to perfor...

English: Willie Nelson getting ready to perform. Farm Aid 2009. Photo by Larry Philpot, www.soundstagephotography.com (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Highway 80 West Road story part one.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry


For Lana Del Rey. She could steal my soul and make me young again.


                       Highway 80 West
Going nineties down Highway 80.
The sun is dropping into the west.
I drove my five hundred mile and I’m going to stop and see what I can find.
Davenport is in view.
I promised myself one drink in every state.
Today it is a Long Island ice tea and a cheap hotel in Iowa.Holiday Inn had good prices during the Winter.
Open bar on a Friday night.
Always opportunity for conversation and chance.Pretty girls and cheap beer till nine pm. Happy hour is my favorite time.
Young girl with questions in her eyes asked. “Who are you.”
I told her. No-one important. Just a traveling Soldier going West to California.
She smiled and asked. “Do you dance?”
I smiled and told her. I can two-step and waltz if the drinks are strong enough.She told me her name was Elena. Newly free from a bad relationship and need someone
to make her laugh. I smiled and told her. I know a few jokes and I like
laughter. I wouldn’t mind some good company. I escaped to war to forget a
bad situation. I order her a gin and tonic and another Long Island for myself.We two-stepped to some Willie Nelson. She asked. “Is there a reason to go on?”
I brought her close and told her. Life is a boring ride if we want nothing. Better to live fast, die young and don’t look back.”

She laughed and requested a ride home. Her babysitter was leaving at 11pm.
I took her home to a small apartment and her cozy apartment filled with
photos of better day and her kids. She asked was I hungry and told me.
“Can’t live on booze and alcohol alone.” I accepted.

Her daughter awoke. Came to me. Asked who I was? I told her I was Johnnie. Just a
new friend. The five-year girl smiled and she danced in circles. She
told me she was going to be a dancer and singer like her mama. Her
mother appeared and brought the eggs and bacon to me. Took her baby to
bed. She came back and apologies for the child.

I told her. She is an angel. You have everything that hold value. You can’t repair what
is done. You can live for the good things. The little girl is smart and
strong like her mother. I asked her for a song? She smiled and asked me
“Who told you I can sing.” I told her a little angel told me.

She brought out a guitar. She smiled and told me. “One of my original songs.”

Traveling too long with no place to go

Me and my baby are riding the long highway.
Heading to no-where land.
Where fool and dreamers fall together to celebrate what is left.
Whiskey and wine song is all we have.
We dance all night. Drink the days away and fall in the wild nights.
Highway don’t care who you are.
Stranger or friend.
Always an easy place to land.

She stopped and smiled. Asked me did I like the song?
I told her it was very good. We watched old movies and talks of great dreams.
She was going to be a star and I was adding memories to a story with an unknown ending.

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and her address. I told her I would sent postcards from California. I thanked for the company.

I left Iowa and headed West on highway 40. Tonight I will end-up in Omaha.
I hope Nebraska would be as entertaining as last night.
There are good people everywhere in the land of the free.
The free riders of life are many. We need to listen and pay attention.
Old road is a fine teacher.


© 2013 Coyote Poetry