There once was an author called Tim
And not to read his poems should be considered a sin.
All manner of darkness is contained within
and yet you’ll chuckle and giggle and laugh at them.
He may also have done one or two movies as I understand.
No bookshelf is complete without the The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy. In my case auspiciously (or perhaps suspiciously) wedged between Thucydides and Christopher Hitchens. Fine company if ever there was any.
This is not my original copy. I gifted my original, which was a hardcover (which I’m a little bit sad about now) In any event I have gifted this particular book more times than any other. Its unusual, quirky and exceptionally cool. An excellent gift.
A modern day Renaissance Man, Tim committed twenty three poems to paper and then beautifully illustrated each one. If you love A Nightmare before Christmas (and I cannot fathom why anyone wouldn’t love this movie) you will love this book. Its a little bit Roald Dahl, but maybe with a dash more macabre. With a little piece of Gary Larson floating in it. Possibly his spleen or large intestine.