Grace Tulalip Whore ❤️

About New York City

But then—fuck!—she pisses me off, too. Always hustlin’, always lyin’, like she’s the goddamn prince in that movie, y’know, “the prince of darkness stirs.” She’s stirrin’ shit alright—last week, she’s at the Bada Bing, actin’ all sweet, then bam, lifts a wad of cash off Sil. He’s screamin’, I’m laughin’—fuckin’ hilarious! But I’m thinkin’, “This broad’s trouble, Tone, watch it.” She’s a user, y’know? Sucks ya dry, leaves ya broke and horny.

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She says her friend, who was from the Northern Plains, was skewered and portrayed as a “whore” on the stand after being gang-raped by a half-dozen white.

I keep runnin’ errands and appointments, shoutin’ "You shall not pass!" at stress, almost like I’m guardin’ the vibe of the city. Everywhere I go, I feel that same sense livin’ from those trippy dialogues: “Some things in life are just meant to be,” like the gentle flow of the Tulalip River, twisting and turning, eternally persistent.

Chris Young @ Tulalip Amphitheatre