Tom is humor and pathos, bathos and brine. Huckster magician, snake oil salesman, carnival barker. Downtown Shakespeare, a dreamer gone to ground. Trains and tears, crows and crooners and always the moon. Tom is vaudeville and broadway, burlesque and bowery, all thrown in a blender with a dictionary and some good dirt. Tom is a walking bass line and an upright piano, bullhorns and tin cans, whiskey and a cigarette. Grunge and lullabies, cabaret, crooning and scat. Bard and balladeer, wailing and warbling, pitching his whole broke heart at the thing. Tom is.