I drove to Iowa City to hear Rhino read from his new book, "The Rutabaga Dalliances." It had been 13 years since I last saw him, and in that near decade and a half he had received many piercings to his face and body. Couple that with his tattoos (an anaconda whose head peeped out on his neck and wound- I was told- round and around his various body parts with its tail finally doing a little shimmy-shake number around his ankle), he resembled a stage version of Queequeg who had been attacked in the face with a staple gun. He read well. A flock of grad students, with hair dyed the twenty flavors of Hawaiian shaved ice, listened attentively. The upper room of the bookstore where he read was well packed with the curious, the kooky, and the radio and television techs from the university FM and cable stations.
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