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.
Distract,
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!.
