A summer day.. in the middle of highway 66 .. she in an half sleeved ruffled Indian shirt.. a red bandana in her dreadlocks.. the sun shining and reflecting off her aviator shades.. a cigarette dangling from the side of her lips.No train in the distance.
A diesel truck comes from across the mirage. A rusty green monster eating the sand dunes and sweeping the desert … he thumbed the diesel down… he.. Bobby… McGee
Her lover..Her man.. a singer of blues.. his hand is in her hand.. the driver is Hispanic.. the fan is not working.. she’s got a harpoon … pointed outside.. is she fishing flying pigs?
One state after another.. the same scene.. roads… one ghost city follows the other… a never ending series of abandoned places.. a variation on a theme.. one theme.
Texas, New Orleans, Arizona, California, Colorado.. different names for the same road.. from coast to coast in a green diesel pickup… eaten by the rust of life and time.
Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose…
Bobby loves to sing the blues.
Her Lover.. Her man… just left … went to his home.. what is home???