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COMMISSION BASED: COVER ART, MERCH, DESIGN CONSULTING, CREATIVE SOLUTIONS, SOUND BEDS, LOGO DEVELOPMENT, BRAND CONSULTING AND JUST ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE YOU CAN THINK OF...          
NOW ACCEPTING CONTRACTS FOR THE SPRING SEASON.


EXTRAS

DISCOG.
︎ BUMP
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*WEIGHT
︎ UNK
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ON SABBATICAL: 1
︎ ON SABBATICAL: 2
︎ ON SABBATICAL: 3
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ON SABBATICAL: 4
NOTES FOR A COMING ATTRACTION






Language: English
ISBN-10: 0882681281
ISBN-13: 978-0882681283
  I died. Deader and deader.
"Little joke corpse!" Yeah, I
shrank beyond belief; I'd even fit quite neatly
inside the bowl of my ridiculously
miniscule briarwood pipe.
  Ishmael they call me, Father
Ishmael. I'm such a pipsqueak, though,
they have got to be kidding.
  Being dead means
    very light housekeeping.
  It's dark,
    and cold.
  Cold as the dawn of a new
Ice Age. A sage frostbitten
under gelid palmtrees. The pallor
of one's foibles.
  Dark: A rat standing
at attention on the tip of his
hairless tail squealing bloody
murder without the slightest movement of his snout.
  Cold: Across an almond-green plain
a procession of pale blue elephants
walking backwards.
  Dark: A diminutive stringbean of a rat hovers
on dragonfly wings.
  Cold: A wee purple face glares out of a winejar's
bulging glassy midriff.
  Dark: Two perfectly identical human mouths
kiss each other to death.
  Cold: A truncated male torso
gives with a significant wink.
  Dark: Above clouds or
black sands. Idols of old religions
set up. Facing them,
horror in tar: the grin of certain dead people.
Cold ...—Polar ...— I'm entombed