from wine book…

Mike Madigan
Jul 27, 2017 · 2 min read

Lunch. Wine all around me telling me to be more creative and separatist and evasive… evasive with respect to pattern and anything expected… in class tonight I’ll share a similar sentiment, if I remember. A little warm here in what I call ‘cubicleville’, so I take off sweater and write as quick as I’m able or want to. Really, able. Others in office with me and I hear their keyboard types and chair movements… doing their job and my job is to be with wine a writer of wine, and there’s no wine in here. But I’m forcing myself to force myself to remain in the chair and write something — recalls of Sauvignon Blanc and red blend the other night re-materialize on inner screen and narrate more about themselves. Has final pour of each last night, before early bed…. SB professing a nearly angry stationing, showing more alcohol visibility than prior night (again, ABV 15.1), with the blend crafting a more romantic and picturesque pulse.

Pinot on menu, both actually, speaking to me in new language, new meter and rhyme, and I only want to observe, not jot a single mark into journal, but I have to I know it’s my job but I just want to be a wine lover for a second. When I get back… and it’s not a Pinot thing as so many claim to be Pinot-centric or firm Burgundy pupil. It’s a facet to the makeup and general composition to Noir that has me following, blindly… notes form past sips, last week, read “…echoing focus and reasoning, cherry vocals with wild spice and smoke percussive…” What will I write today? You know what, I will write. I won’t just be a ‘wine lover’. Eating every thought, it translates to syllables and poetic feet on tablet inner…. “far-reaching flavor climate, intent on making a sipper smitten…” Another note, from week before the one before. What will she tell me to tell, today?

Mike Madigan

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author/creator of bottledaux.com … #tirelesswriter, #papablogga