augury doggerel

Thursday, July 31, 2003


The street where we live is quiet and verges on forest, but it's not void of industry.

On our corner is a needleworker whose light burns late and early, a basement computer shop with concrete lions crouched at the door going down, a wholesale dealer in cosmetics and other ladies' preparations, and a school packed with beautiful girls walking mornings. And we're not all poor. The people in the big house directly opposite drive a shiny black sedan through a gate that screeches open before them.

Our street is named for Stephen Bathory (Stefan Batory), King of Poland. Before he pulled up stakes and came north to take the Polish throne, Bathory was Prince of Transylvania. He fought against the Turks alongside his neighbor, Dracula, the Prince of Wallachia. Bathory's niece was Elizabeth Bathory, who bathed in the rejuvenating blood of virgins.

The street here is quiet, but our kid is especially sensitive to insect bites. We latch the windows and pull down the shutters at night.


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