"After it all went down in the old world,
Puck opened up a teashop downtown,
and she’s got tattoos, twenty-odd piercings,
and a pet human knotted to her heart with a silver chain.
She drugs the chamomile with ennui
and burns Darjeeling to please the old gods
(rumored to manage that stellar brewery on Lexington)
while that man of hers maintains his beard,
stows the salt and silver high out of reach,
and spins chocolate and herbs together with holistic alchemy.
The selkies took to spinning thread and hemming skirts
and they’ll dress you in free trade fineries
so long as you don’t ask about the furs under glass.
The vampires have day jobs now, in banking and law,
but Mother Night still holds her sway,
and she throws a mean masquerade at the goth club.
Invest in some black lipstick and show up late, she loves that.
If you can’t spot the immortals straight away,
two shots of fireball whiskey in the bathroom
slathers everything in glamour.
Don’t take drinks from succubae
but do befriend the witches (trust me, you’ll need them)
and for God’s sake dance.
Things that don’t dance get eaten.
If you need to run remember that Urban Outfitters is open late,
and that the hipster changeling running the register
will offer your sanctuary because he thinks it’s terribly nuevo.
There’s plenty of magic to scrape out of this city,
If you know where to look for it,
so be careful with your footing and mindful of the hour,
liberal with your compliments and stingy with your name
this city has a monopoly on the unexpected."
Fantastical Advice for the Ashevillian Tourist by S.T. Gibson