| LA | NY A Special Edition of The East Village Douglas Messerli War Bride Hear how it comes, through a sky to be precise, trembling into terrible proportions, infected as it is with the air! She, patient, utterly white, waits for it to jump her. Now the beak! no, now a sort of vibration that pulsates like an immense chorus into emergence. But to does not emerge, she is safe. She looks over her shoulder and turns into ice. "Why did this powerful force refuse me" is the last though drained with the blood of her brain. for eternity she waits for the hot breath of beasts. [from Elio Pagliarani] August 24, 1998 Next |