The Art of Making WINE

In Santa Barbara

There I was, talking to my dream man, elbow up to the wine bar, listening enraptured to his story of helping others, all his good deeds. He is tall and lean, toe-headed like my first love, but good-incarnate. His heart is always in the right place and he knows how to use it, if you know what I mean. Our kids would look the same. I could fall so hard for him, I don’t think I would recover. He is one of the good guys, i hope, so I am sure my heart would be in good hands; All heart and hands, he is, my dream man, touching me softly, holding me firmly.


From now on I am only talking to the good guys, my guy, one I would be willing to call my own. Don’t assume it’s you. I am realizing, just now in my life, that I know who you are. And sometimes I fear my husband has plotted with his mother to knock me off; get off my fucking rocker, right? Like how did I know it was you, I still don’t, but I have already started morning my sanity. I’ve found myself though, and I am on guard and kicking him out of the bed tonight. Back to his room he goes with his mother and father on the plane. So, if you are one of those bad guys, stop reading right now. Go back to counting your money, plotting your extractions, dealing in blood.


I have met the bad guys

and I fear he is one of them

all that matters is money

but the problem is, it’s not only my husband

it’s the people who are elbowing out the scientists to be afraid of

are you listening because i need somebody to love and do and be just with

they use us all

that inside of us thing

whose name i won’t say

to justify anything


So there is this dreamy man to be cast

beside my body, my dream

head of the richest foundation but he lives that not

they only give to all the left hand free

causes of my heart

so it would seem


but what if he had a secret

and it was in the wine of Santa Barbara alone

I could write it, you see

and another man, too, i think you know who

an epic of sexual puns and affairs of the heart

broken and sad, but a comedy about my home, divorce, love actually

real meaning and sadness and life and death and sex and shit is what i write about, love

love and wine and women and men

you cooking for me

in every room of the house

doing whatever it is we do


They can justify anything, I fear, in the name of god. And by anything, i mean just that. They might use the hands of others, the hands of gods handle life and death matters, of course you know; But it would be just they would say, claim, pay you to think. It’s black friday and all.

Really I would ask you if we could touch and breathe into our hearts together as one. It is so bright in here, i need to hear your words to know the truth.


Instant Winemaker Needed

I have just aquired an unexpected lot of fruit and want to start making wine with it right away before you spoil, see the Emergency Guide on page 173.


I am just a woman, Chumash, and men from the ships always need help. It could be old school like that, the wine-making, love, or just the comedy.



Before it spoils, I mean. Are you an enologist, internationally known? Then i think you can help with the paddle, push down, reach deep, rhubarb wine recipe on page 69.

Wine narrowly defined means only the fermented juice of the vinafera grape, but like Dionysus is Bacchus, love is wine, wine making love, love making wine.


p.s. Sometimes when I write You, I mean Me, my intuition, my heart, my love, if you know what i mean, you can keep reading, love me.


p.s.s. I need a good pro bono divorce attorney, please.


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