The Full Count (acoustic) by Killing Moon
Katheena
had never been very good at planning anything at all.
But
she sure could make a presentation.
The
thin blue blade swept across the wide valley of the San Joking River and I
swear, I felt the thunder of a thousand hooves in the ground.
The
cabin behind us roared with lightning-struck fury and we damned punks witnessed
fear that struck bone.
I
looked back at my friends and they were chust standing there with their mouths
agape.
Fat
Jerry broke the hold of Tellesco and stood up.
He looked past me and his eyes opened wide.
It
was the herald to the End of Fuckno, like a blast from the trumpets of Heaven.
He
said, “You dug me up for THIS?!”
He
ran towards the big white truck as the blue blade arrived. He climbed up into the driver seat and the
cloud of dust blasted us from the huge black horse, held to a stop by his
reins.
Mayhem
had arrived.
Tahoo/Amen.
The
Glinty held them reins taut in one hand, and his other hand clamped the
hearse-wagon brake-handle.
The
cloud of dust rained down on us. Glinty
stood up and dropped the reins. He
grabbed his shotgun and aimed it at the fat punk rocker in the utility truck.
Mayhem
snorted dust from his snout and shook his head.
He whinnied and looked back at the old ghost-cowboy atop the wagon.
Glinty
nodded towards us.
The
huge horse whipped his head back to face us.
His wild mane of blue flames was a blinding sight to behold.
The
white truck started up its engine and The Glinty fired his shotgun through the
missing windshield at the face of that punk rocker with the purple spikes.
From
inside the cabin of the truck we heard a shriek.
“NO! Birdshot?!
Again?!”
It
seemed like new old times among bad friends.
I
wiped the dust out of my eyes and regarded the small figure sitting next to The
Glinty.
Nothing
like a blast from the heavens to wake you the fuck up.
I
could see her.
Katheena.
Did
she betray me?
Q U E E N
O F
T H E
D E S E R T
C H
3
KATHEENA
(R E B O O T)
Dayam.
Katheena
had never been very good at planning anything at all.
Of
course, she could plan a hook-up, a meeting, a dinner, but never a party.
Such
a thing takes constant and unerring commitment until it actually happens. It is
a skill that can be both taught and learned, but it is not an inherent talent
that comes along with the DNA of simply being borne.
Yup.
None
of us hold all the keys, you know.
We
each have our weaknesses, and we each have our strengths.
These
may balance out if you pay close enough attention to all of them details, but
the whole equation is known only at the end of one’s life.
The
best that you can do is attempt to put more plusses into your math and hope for
the best against the negatives that occur along the way.
That
there, my friend, is known as Faith.
Seasons by Chris Cornell
Katheena’s
smile could brighten a room when she entered. She never hung against a
wall like a flower.
Nope.
She
was rather like a shotgun.
When
she left the room, all the lights dimmed and you were left with a feeling of
wanting to follow her.
Others
would be right behind her, out the door. Where was she headed next?
She was like a pied piper.
How
could she enter a party, make a full sweep and charm each person with a few
words and her goofy, honest grin and then leave with all the fun people?
You
wanted to run to catch up to her, to follow her to the next place.
Were
you been left behind?
There
was still time to join her, if you made quick steps.
Would
you have stayed behind?
Would
you follow?
God
help you
God
help us All
---willies
out.
OK, One More For You:
It was Katheena that went missing from this tale.
It was also me.
The tale will unfold as it wants to, but I guess it
comes back to the Truth.
I want to follow her.
It’s just that…
Well,
It’s a different sort of scary for me.
I been fighting it.
I apologize to you Katheena for what happened to you.
Rrrrrrgh.
.
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