they told the girl: you are not
going anywhere, you are going to sit
in the dark
for the rest of your sorry sad life. you are
just like a balkan rat,
boring out the eyes of your kin,
hissing and scratching and screaming
in the night,
and all the little children, their lacy bare
feet pattering on soviet
cement floors, go
running to their mothers
when they hear you
when they see you.
and the girl
laughed.
the last pavilion 