Autumn Light On The Crazy River

I caught the blue train down to the blues can, and my hands were shaking while I downed one, two, three beers. I calmed down and the man sitting next to me told me I didn't seem like a bitch anymore so I told him about the time I smashed a wine bottle over my boyfriends head and had to go to jail.

The guy sitting on the other side of me overheard and wanted to be my friend too. I stayed until they turned the open sign off, and we all smoked, even though I don't do that sort of thing in the real world.

The bartender gave me a ride home and I stole a street sign for him as a gift, then he took me out for a 300 dinner.

Now it's a week later and I'm in his kitchen wrapped in coyote and fox furs while an impossibly handsome cree country singer serenades me.

I make some popular native american actor wear a dead bear on his head and sing me working class hero by John Lennon.

Take me hunting, I say. Next I want you to catch me a wild hoop dancer for the basement.

I didn't like him because he talks too much, but now I do because the talk wasn't just talk and I think I might be more of a fraud than he is. He brings me songs and furs and I just try everything on for size until i'm ready to fill a bigger pair of shoes.

Paint me a picture, my dear. Another artist must be ruined.