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The Cabo Polonio Guitarist

Written for Performance, by Katarina Kojic

(SINGS) Bamboleoooo! Bamboleaaaaa… That was called Bamboleo. You are very beautiful. You enjoy how I play guitar and sing at the same time? You are very pretty. I see you arrive on the beach with Alejandro. He is gone now, no? It is nice he let you stay in his house, alone. I bring my guitar to keep us company. There aren’t many people in Cabo Polonio in the winter. But no matter I am here, now. I wonder why you come to Uruguay. You are American, no?  So far away. Well no matter we have many days to learn from each other. Oh I see you are painting. Perhaps you paint me while I eat a bowl of the wonderful polenta stew I smelled from outside? You are so beautiful, your eyes are deep souls. You make it very romantic here with candles and wine. Is my idea or perhaps you know I come to visit? No but I laugh, you don’t know I come tonight. I wave hello from across the field, you see me and wonder who is this man, no? I see you smile. Very beautiful your smile. When I see you I think, I will take my guitar to the girl and play for her and sing at the same time. Your glass is nearly empty. It will be lonely for more wine. Don’t be shy, my glass has room for more too. In Cabo Polonio it is normal to barter many things. Fresh milk is traded for wood, a story for a cigarette, a song for some wine. Very nice to have such a beautiful woman pour wine for me. You are very fast painter. I see myself already. Oh the candles are burning low. No matter. Darkness can be very romantic. I learn to play guitar in darkness. You learn to do many things in the dark when there is no electricity. It gets darker, perhaps we open another bottle of wine before the light is gone. Oh I see my last cigarette has disappeared. It would be nice to share a smoke with such a beautiful woman. Ah no matter if you don’t have any. I play for you anyway. My voice a satin cape around your ears, your lips around your smile can fill my soul. You know my hair hasn’t been cut since the last time I fell in love. After I play for you, perhaps you predict if it is time to visit Armando the barber in Valizas, it’s not far, a town away. Not expensive. No matter, I show it to you some day soon. There is much to show you, in the light. But for now it grows darker. I see a box of chocolate biscuits on the shelf, bring them and I will play for you and sing at the same time, while you can still see my lips and I your eyes.  “Ooooh, hey mambo, mambo Italiano, go go joe,”


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