I Remember The Wall

1985

Michelle and Ann and I were there. Checkpoint Charlie. Our passports processed.
We exchanged the prerequisite amount -- eight dollars each -- and spent our day
Trying to spend it all. Every pfennig, every mark on the other side, the empty
Secret city sans echoes except sounds of soldiers' boots. Soldiers dared us
Come closer, to the wall, to the watchtowers, to the razorwire, come closer
To us. We've got guns. We're watching you. Kommen Sie, Kommen Sie,

Silly American girls. Blonde, redhead, brunette, Charlie's Angels,
Smiling our American smiles, wearing our blue jeans for prying off,
For sliding down, for slipping free of, they offered to pay us for them,
To sell them on the black market where we could not spend enough
In spite of all the beer we drank and paid for everyone in the biergarten too.
Thin, tall, blonde, young Dieters and Dirks toasting, pushing back on their chair legs,

The old ones crumpled over their beers. Extras on the film set of our lives.
The ones who dared to mingle. Did they get paid to tell us they were happy there,
Unemployed like that, or was it the beer? Leaving, as the sun would set, we
Squinted into the future, turned back at the edge, true Americans, to toss our unspent
Coins for the soldiers to retrieve for their brothers and sisters, or children,
To tell them about the American girls, how we had no use for them or their money.

1989

When the wall came down, the televised celebrations showed a joyful
Destruction, the tearful reunions. My cousin brought home photographs
And rocks. In Paris the days grew darker early. People
Shivered when they spoke of the new Germany, unified.
At the charcuteries, boulangeries, patisseries, les cafes,
No more bon weekends. I heard instead quick blessings, shuddered prayers for peace.

In the vestibule, an old man stopped me, pointing to my name on the mailbox,
Juif! His hand to his heart, he whispered, moi aussi. Insistent, he mouthed
Moi aussi and moved his hand between us as if to stir a pot of soup, kinship assigned
Across continents. The two of us will die together when the Germans return, Mademoiselle.
His gaze I held and smiled my American smile. He shuffled home alone, his slippers
Scuffed across the stones to the staircase, when the Germans return, Mademoiselle.

2009

Twenty years have passed since the wall was torn down, since Paris stood waiting,
With a mouthful of fear. My suitcase empty, I returned to my country
Found love, had children, bought roomfuls of toys. Twenty years have passed
Since the wall was torn down. The East as the West fills up with stores of stuff to buy.
In Paris, no more francs, no more pfennigs, no one left
Alone on a dark stone staircase waiting for the Germans to return.