augury doggerel

Wednesday, November 13, 2002


Nosferatu walks into a bar (this one, actually) and gets a buddy merry with his newly shaven head and very pointed ears. He curls fingers around the brass rail. I can't see him in the mirror but that doesn't mean he isn't here. It could be just my point of view.

Then a made man bolts into the corner and growls into his self-own while we wait not to hear. He mentions stakeholders and I look at Nosferatu, but not a blink.

I go on consuming barflies.


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