The Tringo Kid

by Pixeleen Mistral on 29/04/07 at 10:04 am

by Kris Dibou, warrior poet/pirate

They called her The Tringo Kid
If she had money, then that’s all she did
Should they interrupt her game
She’d send them home lame
Be they human, furry or squid

She wore her gun low on the hip
A cigarette hung off from her lip
Her finger’d be itching
Her eye’d be twitching
And her drink, slowly she’d sip

One day as her score did climb high
Appeared right in front of her eye
Between she and her card
A fellow rezzed hard
And we all knew that soon he would die

The gun then appeared in her hand
So fast, we could not see when
And as smoke filled the room
To darken his tomb
The stranger was blown limb from limb

They cleaned up the floor that same night
Then got one hell of a fright
Implanted between
Where his eyes should have been
Was a push-bullet lodged in him tight.

And he lies there to this very day
A warning to all that would play
If you come in between
The Kid and her screen
Kid Tringo will blow you away.

copyright (c) 2007 – Kris Dibou – used by the gracious permission of the author.

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