The Wrath of Grapes is an informed and hilarious look at what it means to be hung over,
as well as a sure guide for imaginative redemption.

When I first met Patrick, I was a wild-eyed college student and he was a wilder English professor. He'd been at Kent State as a grad student just after the 1970 shootings, and there he met a bewildering lot of writers and artists brought in to... make people forget? People did not forget, but in that year Kent State had the likes of Robert Duncan and Robert Creeley and Ed Dorn on hand to help make some sense of the pain. Patrick came away from there with a keen interest in the Black Mountain writers and in the power of contemporary poets and writers to make things cohere.

At SUNY Oneonta, where we met in 1974, Patrick carried on like fireworks—engaging his students fully during his various classes, and meeting us at night for beers at one or several of Oneonta's many bars. Two memories stand out: Patrick's living room, with his beloved classical record collection strewn across the floor, out of their jackets ("C'mon in," he'd yell. "Off with your shoes!"). The second memory is of Patrick's red VW bug, which had some gear box problems. Patrick became adept at driving it in reverse, the only gear it finally had. He drove that way for months, all over town, in all conditions. Somehow, all survived.

All of that is prelude to The Wrath of Grapes, just so you know from whence it comes. Sober now for thirty years, Patrick never gave up on the little "book of advice" he began back then, as he emerged from his own fog and found his forward gears. He's written and published six other books in recent years, but this is his first baby—straight out from the soul, written in rapture, now recovered.

The Wrath of Grapes features drawings by artist Bill Bevan, who presently studies at the Memphis School of Art & Design.

The cover design is by Jerry Kelly.