Monster Cafe

In the scholarly corner, the cosmic horned fox sends forth a mournful sax wail

while at the main tables, the businessmen wrestle like demons, or men incensed in a jail;

Mrs. Frankenstein sells fine French brioches and fruit pastries to an endless crowd

while Dracula pours the coffee, and whistles Broadway quite out loud...

Medusa and her snakes savor lattes ;

while college goblins prefer Matte's. 

And on the walls in fine wooden frames hang the surreal oils

of a wizened old wizard of arts, who toils in his lonely downtown apartment; 

All together a scene of domestic barbarity which can be found in the seedy, decadent edges

of any attempt at elusive civilization; for the foibles of fashion make monsters of us all!