Poochytown's wordless frames are such compulsive reading that one can easily lose sight of the imaginative firepower Woodring puts into every one, as well as into the connective tissue of the comic's world itself. This says nothing of the creative rigor it takes to give momentum to a narrative whose x-axis is psychedelia and whose y-axis is the absurd. There's no mistaking the rigor brought to bear in Woodring's drawings, however... For a book with the decadence, the visual languor that Poochytown boasts, the momentum that Woodring musters by casually unrolling wonders and oddities is perhaps the oddest thing on display. Like all the best comics, it's easier to read than it is not to.