Man on the Run

Man on the run where are you going to stay,
There’s a bed over hear where you can lay
Man with a gun what are you doing
The children are waiting father gone away
Man on the run come home and lay

Man on the run you have to stop and listen
There’s hope over here nothing too damn hard
We all need a base something we can rely on
Man on the run pray you get there…
man on the run just ran in to there..a winebar!

read on…..

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely like I did

tonight..lady in bed… That tune, he’d heard

It so often these last two weeks. It was on the radio non

Stop, a christmas day promotion, sell sell, flowers,

for the Mistress, the wife, flowers for every occasion,

not forgetting the dead. Advertising works he lamented

as another cigarette slipped from the pack, straight to

his lips. I better do this right he thought, self

conscious, not yet drunk. I’d prefer to die cool than

stupid. Crisp whiff of a match, swishes to life and

light, his personal gas chamber is in operation, suck

for god sakes, did I do that right, was anyone looking.

sitting in the graveyard of humanity, a late night

bar among all the bores, toothless fairies, just bodies,

dazed or stunned, under some influence, most of them dead

lookers, but not him, he knew better.

Fancy a bottle of wine. He continued to whine away the

Moments. It has to get better than this, his moaning

Legendary. That’ll impress her, and make sure

You moan even more the moment she asks you to unhook her

Brassiere. Your only a thirty four double

Dee, I was expecting a thirty eight, to match my

Magnum down below. Oh fuck off harry, your not clint

Eastwood. He inhaled deeply, drawing smoke down into

His lungs, down into his stomach. If he wasn’t wearing

Pants, his ass would have looked like a car exhaust, so

Intense his determination. Be patient and what he

Thought. The way she was drinking, they’d own the

vineyard. Say nothing, say nothing, she was on her way

back from the loo. He quickly looked at his watch, only

ten minutes this time, she was getting better with

practice. And forget how to moan he reminded himself.

“that was quick!” he asked as she sat down. Oh, god, I

didn’t mean to say that. She looked at him oddly. He

intervened immediately.

“I ordered another bottle!” that’ll please her he

thought. Tactic’s he smiled to himself. He likes my

hair she smiles back.


if she’s confused distract, buy her a present, a shopping

voucher preferably as nothing you’ll buy her will be

right. He read that once in the how to be romantic and

get away with it manual he bought in the harware store.

The music hummed away in the background, the waiter

Apperared, harry did his wine thing, insisting on

Smelling the cork again. I should have changed my panties

She thinks.

“this is the way you taste wine!” he insists, taking a

deep whiff of the bottle cork.

She looked at him, if that’s the way, that’s the way.

I hope she’s wearing clean panties too. All that perfume

And lipstick, three hours in the hair salon, a facial

Too, did you get the part, no she replied with a smile,

But he wants to see me at his place she sqeeks, with

Pigly delight. Women make great actresses.

The waiter did his waiting thing, dribbling a mouthful

Of the finest burgundy, what a waste, I could

Be serving them plonk they’d still be impressed thinks

The wally waiter, as he deftly

Dribbles a mouthful into the empty glass, then waiting

Again. Did you ever see anyone send it back. Wally waits

And smiles. So what do you do, I’m a waiter actually, i

all men do. Harry took the glass in his hand,

Whirling the red splash around and around in the glass,

Before taking it to his mouth. he didn’t swallow

immediately. Letting it rest on his palate, he tasted

The juice amid a gulp of smokey air. A cherry bouquet

With a woody taste, fine wine he decided before letting

It slide down into the depths of his stomach. Routine,

Even dogs need it.

“that’s fine!” he answered, nodding, as the waiter filled

two glasses half full.

“bon apetit!” smiles wally before departing the table.

“you know your wine!” she smiles, her glass already at

her mouth, the liquid in mid air, about to enter

hallowed ground below. Where do I come in her list he

thought, as he watched her empty the stuff into herself.

If she’d been a car, she was all six cylinders.

Go on he moaned, an hour of wine and worse later. She’d

Spent an hour going over and over the various health

And mental problems she’d come to terms with in her

Rather short life. ER is her favourite TV program by

The way.

She was only thirty four. All those issues, your some

Girl he tells her. Issues, such a neat word she uses,

Friendly sounding, unlike disease. But she was a head
On woman. The issues she insists, dealt with, faced up

to, overcome, issues she had to deal with alone, she

takes a gulp of wine, catching her breath at the same

time. Will ya stop, I’ve had enough of these issues,

he wants to scream, but it’s too soon for that.

issues her mother had had to deal, even her cousins,

inflicted with more inflictions than Christ

himself. And did you have medical insurance he asked

wryly, keeping a straight face.

She did as it happened have medical insurance, her father

Was a forward looking man, a lighthouse keeper.

She squirms like a thirteen year old in trouble, makes

Faces too. She needs potty training it seems.

Go on go on, and off she went, he waved to her as she

Turned into the toilet. We’re still together, that’s me,

I’m the one sitting here, yes, I’ve been bored before,

But never by such an attractive woman, yip he smiled,

His thoughts in no mans land. I’ll never do this

Again he sighed once she was safely in the door, another

near empty bottle of fine burgundy wine to be paid for.

I’ll get sick and leave. No no, if I mention sick,

she’ll have a story. Oh why

Do I do such things he moaned, tearing another cigarette

From the pack.

One minute your sitting there, your pals guarding

You from all intruders, safe in company that has no

Demands, just slurp and be happy. enter miss

Glamourous, just when your at your weakest, your ordering

A drink, right. One step nearer to Heaven minutes later

your all ears for her. You have loads in common. She

smokes too. She even laughs at your saddam jokes, the

dinner one gets her going so much, she insists on

hearing it again, powerful you think. the guys look

On, nudging each other from a distance, some call your

Name. but he never notices. You christen her Britney,

Young enough and chestfull, she wears the

regulatory Thong that is now as standard on women as

potatoes once were in the irish national diet before

macdonells moved in.

your from the cook islands and tonga you ask!, tonga

she replies, where is that. She doesn’t know her

geography as well as you do, you notice, cause when

She stoops down to pick up her lighter from off the floor

top rides up her back and bingo, you

See a familiar strip of cloth across her ass that has

No visible means of support. Why women want to let you

Know these things is beyond me, I’m a Y front specialist,

Medium fit, loose croth. But you can’t help looking. It

Gets better, where there is doubt, pour it out. Where

There is none, invent it. Man, bang, wallop, inspired

Or not, woman, miracle, christ, maybe women are

Environmentally sound after all. Wearing less cloth,

Means using less Washing up liquid. but they make up for

it with beer stains on the carpet, so you fuck all

thoughts of the Environment out of the conversation from

that moment on, along with geography lessons.

But you’ve been hooked, thonged along by your very

Thoughts and wonderous imagination.

Thongs, though, you love them, that seedy material, thin,

And the v patch to the front. She’s a babe.

Their leering continues, the guys hate to loose one of

Their own to the otherside preferring the sauna or a

Rough game of rugby. But you’re a martyr, you don’t mind

being the test pilot, not that you’re the first to fly

around her orbit. Women love attention, so do kids,

ask your neighbour. The moments linger on. Your her

Guinea pig. She looks you in the eye, you keep raising

Your head to meet her eye to eye. of course your not

interested in her chest, one day they’ll hang like

grannies. She mentions somewhere else, the nights young,

your okay though, you can still feel the Viagra tab in

your pocket, emergency supply. the lads will be pissed

With you, but your mothers advice whistles in your ear as

You make your way out the door passed them, those others,

You don’t even say goodbye, just winking, winking, not

Wanking. There such pricks she remarks once outside the

Door, those fella’s who were leering at us, us, them.

Those used to be my pals, they will be once I get you

Home and you make me breakfast. But

You agree with her, cause she’s worth it. on the street

You immediately get a dose of bronchitis once she

Mentions wine and the nearness of a local winebar. She

recommends a doctor to you, as you cross the street.

Her advice is working as your spluttering improves to a

whine. Wine, what does she need wine for. You’ve bought

Her enough vodka to dope a horse. Stepping inside the

Door, you light up, the place is half empty. She wont

Want to stay, she’ll want to leave, as she’s one of

those chicks who loves attention, she made six phone

calls in the bar inside half an hour and sent as many

text messages.

We will not be denied she smiles, if you say so, but I’m

Getting the ride. The table nearest the small dance floor

She chooses of course, you’d have taken the table nearest

The toilet.

but she’s worth it. it’s too late to go anywhere else.

“You know your wine” she sighs, as the waiter pours her

glass first, you having tasted it first, in order, the

cork, the bouquet, the finish, but you don’t

Explain. Greedily. Ha hah hahhh, she laughs at all your

jokes, as glass after glass fills, you listen. Fifteen

minutes later and two hours later, where is she now

You wonder, you pocket as light as your patience. Maybe

She’s doing herself up, maybe she’s hoping that you’ll

Take her home and beat the living shit out of her, maybe

She was flirting without intention, should be banned you

Reckon. The things your mother never tells you!, ma where

Did you meet father, can I forget she answers, never!.

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