Tuckford Bunny Press
© 2024 William Frank | Tuckford Bunny Press | Selden, NY |
Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication or website may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database
or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
The Mort Mission Clerk
It has been my misfortune to shoulder all the blame
as the Lentil County Mort Mission Clerk
in charge of all the burial transport paperwork
for the failures, dereliction, incompetence and shame
that comes with all the errors that were made
in shipping Irv Fugman to his final resting place
in The Lentil Cemetery of Perpetual Grace
which has made me consider my prospects and be afraid,
why can't I have a mind and heart that's sound?
Why can't I stop drinking and fooling around
or take more care in the work I do?
Each morning, my manager dresses me down
as Irv Fugman's corpse goes all over town
and presents his livid lechery to you.
The Shithouse Trouble of Irv Fugman, Deceased
$7.50, 25 pages
There
is
trouble
at
The
Lentil
County
Department
of
the
Dead
when
a
simple
burial
becomes
an
outrageous
post-mortem
odyssey
for
the
poor
corpse
that
was
Irv
Fugman.
A
little
poetry
book
with
a
big,
fantastic
journey,
this
is
a
sonnet
sequence sure to delight, ensorcell and enthrall.
a
Burial at The Lentil Cemetery of Perpetual Grace
As I was later told (I did not attend)
in the first of many punches to the head,
at the gravesite, there somewhat soberly gathered
moirologists, a squirrel, the Reverend
and a few girls from the bar where the priest misbehaved,
and after six hours in the rain with no coffin in sight
it finally erupted in a cataclysmic fight
until the big girl with the lisp fell into the grave.
Wet, muddy, preternaturally big-chested,
she was quite a pound of butter to try and rescue
and despite the best efforts they could do
not only could they not get her disinterred
but then the priest fell in on top of her
where it all got seamy and everyone was arrested.
Irv Fugman at the LKC Rottweiler Skills Competition
At the Lentil Kennel Club's Annual Competition,
the top twenty Rottweilers of the county
were vying for the coveted Metzgerhund Trophy
based on intellect, breed characteristics and disposition
with a new and exciting showcase for the breed,
an all-Rottweiler period production
of Julius Caesar, directed by Martin Gudgeon
and, to my exasperation, Irv Fugman in the lead.
Acts One and Two were cute and amateurish,
and Cassisus kept wandering off to play
with a stuffed panda or purple tennis ball
but then the assassination scene flipped a switch
and in a Roman orgy of violence and affray
Irv was torn to pieces and handlers were mauled.
See sample poems below…
Irv Fugman at the Estate Sale of Walburga Flatz
It was the estate sale of Mrs. Walburga Flatz,
a woman once known for her fulsome shapes and glamour,
who, after years of collecting, had a grand wunderkammer,
with an unfortunate predilection for porcelain cats
in addition to the twelve living articles roaming the place
who apostolic gathered in Irv Fugman's lap,
slouched in a chair, to all take a nap
with one Norwegian Forest cat sitting on his face.
Despite his rather unpleasant state of decease
two rival lawyers considered Irv a masterpiece
and got into such a heated bidding war
that soon both were wrestling on the floor,
someone pulled a gun and shot Irv in the head,
everyone returned fire and nine people were dead.
$2.99
Tuckford Bunny Press
© 2024 William Frank | Tuckford Bunny Press | Selden, NY |
Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of
this publication or website may be reproduced, distributed or
transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or
retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
$7.50, 25 pages
The Shithouse Trouble of Irv Fugman,
Deceased
There
is
trouble
at
The
Lentil
County
Department
of
the
Dead
when
a
simple
burial
becomes
an
outrageous
post-mortem
odyssey
for
the
poor
corpse
that
was
Irv
Fugman.
A
little
poetry
book
with
a
big,
fantastic
journey,
this
is
a
sonnet
sequence
sure
to
delight,
ensorcell
and
enthrall.
a
The Mort Mission Clerk
It has been my misfortune to shoulder all the blame
as the Lentil County Mort Mission Clerk
in charge of all the burial transport paperwork
for the failures, dereliction, incompetence and shame
that comes with all the errors that were made
in shipping Irv Fugman to his final resting place
in The Lentil Cemetery of Perpetual Grace
which has made me consider my prospects and be afraid,
why can't I have a mind and heart that's sound?
Why can't I stop drinking and fooling around
or take more care in the work I do?
Each morning, my manager dresses me down
as Irv Fugman's corpse goes all over town
and presents his livid lechery to you.
Burial at The Lentil Cemetery of Perpetual Grace
As I was later told (I did not attend)
in the first of many punches to the head,
at the gravesite, there somewhat soberly gathered
moirologists, a squirrel, the Reverend
and a few girls from the bar where the priest misbehaved,
and after six hours in the rain with no coffin in sight
it finally erupted in a cataclysmic fight
until the big girl with the lisp fell into the grave.
Wet, muddy, preternaturally big-chested,
she was quite a pound of butter to try and rescue
and despite the best efforts they could do
not only could they not get her disinterred
but then the priest fell in on top of her
where it all got seamy and everyone was arrested.
Irv Fugman at the LKC Rottweiler Skills Competition
At the Lentil Kennel Club's Annual Competition,
the top twenty Rottweilers of the county
were vying for the coveted Metzgerhund Trophy
based on intellect, breed characteristics and disposition
with a new and exciting showcase for the breed,
an all-Rottweiler period production
of Julius Caesar, directed by Martin Gudgeon
and, to my exasperation, Irv Fugman in the lead.
Acts One and Two were cute and amateurish,
and Cassisus kept wandering off to play
with a stuffed panda or purple tennis ball
but then the assassination scene flipped a switch
and in a Roman orgy of violence and affray
Irv was torn to pieces and handlers were mauled.
See sample poems below…
Irv Fugman at the Estate Sale of Walburga Flatz
It was the estate sale of Mrs. Walburga Flatz,
a woman once known for her fulsome shapes and glamour,
who, after years of collecting, had a grand wunderkammer,
with an unfortunate predilection for porcelain cats
in addition to the twelve living articles roaming the place
who apostolic gathered in Irv Fugman's lap,
slouched in a chair, to all take a nap
with one Norwegian Forest cat sitting on his face.
Despite his rather unpleasant state of decease
two rival lawyers considered Irv a masterpiece
and got into such a heated bidding war
that soon both were wrestling on the floor,
someone pulled a gun and shot Irv in the head,
everyone returned fire and nine people were dead.
$2.99