The Opium Den

Scarlet Star
Heyoka His Medicine
She is wearing
A headdress of matchsticks
Robe of dog skins

Her small feet are toughened to the bad bones
As she walks across the backs of men with her
Black lonesome thoughts
On roads too tough to hoe

She is counting small bills in the shade
Because there is still a small pride
Washing her hands thoroughly in the dirt

She counts her money and will hold her head up
And no one will no she came from trash
Because she keeps her nails clean
White of eyes clear

west wind
indifferent
blooms in the night
unlucky then lucky

There are swallows in the sky here

She is unbraiding her hair, which drags in the gully
And wherever she passes the wood will not catch