Laughing, the totem pole carved by Injun Joes, fifteen of them dancing with their licorice black hair streaming back from steaming brows as they drink in the affluence of the stars. Boo de budlly! Scorched legs, crispin' up your thighs! No man! Yes man! Fifteen breaths full man! Woooah! His vessels dilating ,empty cells, the carved Bull on his side looking like he was made from wood but not on account of the moonshine. They're getting higher with their hatchets and peace pipes, pounding the ground with pleistocene jawbones wrenched from the silty pools of slushy ice.
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