In the pub

Well

Water

Nah whiskey

I’d prefer a martini

A who

With a small drop of gin

Sweet Jesus

Now Tommy mind the tongue

Mmmm

A green spot, make it a double and a martini with gin for Denis there barkeep

Right you are Tommy

Nice dress there Denis

It’s Denise tonight Richard

Your right there now, it is Denise for sure

Is it comfortable

What

Well the get up

The get up?

The dress

It’s not too bad.

Breezy I’d assume

Fresh

Yeah fresh

Grand colours by the way

Ah green goes well with my eyes

Ah here give over with that now

Do you not agree

Yeah right

And the under carriage

Ah tucked and slung

Jaysus

Ah he would climb down from the cross

Be no harm and we in need of the wood

I wouldn’t be wanting to get that now

What

Wood

Wood?

You know a surging down below

Ah right

Yeah cause me an injury

So come here tell me are you a transgender or a transvestite or a cross dresser

Well I won’t be getting anything cut of

Thank fuck for that

Yeah I just like the liberating feeling of it

Sure gives you more choice

What

Well you know a more varied wardrobe

True

Jeans trousers skirt dress shirt or blouse

And all the colours

So are you set for the mart tomorrow

Ah yeah come here get me a pint of stout will you

For sure

Fecking half shot from that martini malarkey

Frankie with a WIP

Random

Roses grow where the rivers flow

Do you think so

Well yes

By the bank?

The river bank

Where the crocodile sings

Roars

Yeah roar

Not in this country

Or county

Unless one escaped from the zoo

They’d have a long way to crawl

To the Liffey

The scummers would get it

Ah the croc would win

Be hard to win with a crocodile

Or a cross woman

Eyed or nature

Either or

Coffee or tea

Wine

Red or white

A big glass

Really

Nah red

Frankie mcgivney random conversation again just to get back into swing of the words

Random

There you are and he milling the spuds and no bother on him while the blood floated in the air and the roars evolved to screams and the light fading to dark.

The beef didn’t meet the appearance of steak and toughness would be the word best used for a texture hidden by an over zealous salt shaker

And he told them to stop the swinging

Why they asked sure isn’t the damage done

Because the juice from the cow is all I have an inclination to enjoy

Sure we’ll be finished soon

So will I so just hold on until I put the fork down on the plate beside the knife in a patrolled fashion or perhaps with the top slightly touching

And the sound from the radio is a song from a time when he was young and bolde and seeking truth and he will be humming it for the day

There was no need for what they had done but he couldn’t be telling them when he was the one who bred them into the ways of his heart

Her smile drifts from the shadows. Laughing at the strange ways of him knowing she wouldn’t be having it any other way apart from the unusual touch of his mind upon the world

The cat on the wall beside the bush where the sycamore watched the blackberries erupt in autumn yawned with the mundanity of the scene

The napkin slipped to lie on the once proud floor

I’ll be heading then he replied

Give ma a hug for us

Right then

The wind smelled of a factory in need of closing as he stepped outside and wondered where the madness ended and the sanity began

Frankie loving the words spilling from his mind