Jug Band Bleu

The greasy brown stains of a raggedy hobo thrive amidst a clanking trainyard of warm, breezy kli. The initial instruction is of the smell of motor oil smeared out over the 12-dimensional landscape. Kicking it inthe front is licking a battery, touching a magnetic laptop cord to the inside of the bottom lip, a grounded minerality. Copper on th sides of the tongue and a whisper thin sail of carbon at the back. Old songs of America rise and fall with the passing speakertrains. Afterwards, a bush of lateral apples. Apple on the lift, but an apple of translucent azure geode, one crystalline corner empty as a bite. Too, a golden apple with a war carved on the side, the narcissism that started the narcissism that started the Trojan Narcissism. Interludy bitterness of that's what you get for starting civilization on the Mediterranean. Vacancy of languid democracy.
Dripping nickel pillars support a cave of ponderous shapes, things that are small and seem large, things that are large and seem small, things that are in flux. There is a pleasing liminality to the come down, a mobius drifting in of itself.
An excellent choice for a dinner party, a drink with a close friend, or even just a night in. You work hard. you deserve it. No one appreciates you. No one understands you but your woman. Put your feet up. Tell me about your day. Get comfortable. Have a glass of wine. How 'bout a nice hawaiian punch?
Steel apple, mashed and haunted grows up in the afterfinish. Driving home, the wine is still developing, still dropping hints, dropping apples on your head, PhD's on you, little brats of heavy oily rope, big nets of fish when we get there, all the work you can handle and then some. Gold under our fingernails and you can finally get that guitar restrung. And the burritos, have you heard about the burritos out there?
The next morning, still tasting the wine, pair it with waffles and fresh fruit, real maple syrup, not one in a funny bottle. Pairs with your kids are getting so big now, pairs with gonna miss the bus, pairs with bringing home the bacon, pairs with tipping the paperboy, pairs with a hot and stuffy commute, pairs with coffee at the desk.
By lunch, you may detect a disturbing sense of fear at the afterlinger of olives out of the basket around the big stone press. The back fades into helium green einsteinium and rust.
Brings out the tuna in a tuna fish sandwich or the martini in a three martini lunch. When you started, they told you those days were gone, then they drove a dumptruck of money up to your house. The finish finally finishes finishing. Leaves by the back door, never makes a sound, never leaves a trace except things are a little neater than maybe they would be. Sleep like a baby the next night, meaning sleep undisturbed, meaning sleep good.

Varietal: Grapes
Food Pairing: Spicy lamb curry