Word is going around that Leigh Harris, better known throughout the world as Li’l Queenie, has left this awful and beautiful world this Equinox weekend.
While we are relieved that she has finally found peace from her long struggle with cancer, we are all here rather stunned at the hole that has abruptly appeared in our world.
Leigh was a force of nature, a voice that couldn’t be tamed, a twelve-times-twelve ass-kicking bitch and the sweetest flower that could grow. She gave the world my land’s national anthem.
If you don’t know her, there’s a good bit here. I imagine you’ll be hearing more about her talent and the influence she had soon.
For those of us who had the pleasure to laugh and joke and drink and smoke and love and work with her, other sets of stories will be retold. Leigh was the foulest-mouthed, hard-drinkinest, pointedly-rudest, smartmouthed cuss that walked on two feet. She was also one of the most sensitive and perceptive people I’ve ever met.
I keep trying to end these paragraphs on a high note, but I feel like she’s frowning over my shoulder and I’ve got to add another low crack.
Anyway, you’ll read the accolades in the trades. Tonight, off asses and up glasses, lowlifes.
One more, for those who need a bit of ease tonight.