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

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$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.
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.
Buy Now Buy Now
$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.