Berlin October 1982

Berlin October 1982 A Pan-Am flight from Hamburg A Geldstadt Money City To Tempelhof. West Berlin. Behind the Iron Curtain.

Henri Flesh et moi DJ und Tursteher Nachtclub Leute. Bsirs for the Reeperbahn pimps.

Taxi Zum der VierZeitenJahren Hotel No bags Only Two grams of Persian brown. We're remaking THE JOURNAL OF ELIZABETH D Without the writer. We left her in Hamburg. She's safer there.

Check into the hotel. Concierge looks like Dirk Bogarde. From THE NIGHT PORTER Not a stray hair out of place. No click of his heels. Still everything about him Nazi.

We unpack. Huff some Persian brown. I wish it were China White. Change into bathing trunks. Both of us Greyhound slim. We swim in the tiled pool. It dates back to before the war. The Great War. 1914-1918 Our grandfathers served in France. Long long ago.

Two couples exit from the sauna. Speedos for the men Bikinis for the women Older The men Former Nazis Proud.

They never lost the war. Henri is French. He sees them too. For what they were and are. "Salauds."

They see us for us. Auslanders. I stare at them. "Nazis."

The word crosses the pool. They hear it. They know who they were And who they are. I get out. Get my towel We leave. Turn Spit on the floor "Nie weider." Never again.

Kurdammstrasse. Wealth The West Zoo Station in the afternoon. No action. Eat Eisbein Pig foot Drink Berlin Weisse Bier Go to Der Dschungel Disco Dance with TVs Do Persian brown. The West rules At least this isn't Berlin 1945. In the AM we go to the East The Berlin Wall stretching out of sight. This side graffiti The other side A Death Zone Ladnmines, dogs, and snipers Through Checkpoint Charlie To East Berlin Passports bitte A squat female border guard We are of interest For thirty seconds. Willkommen zu Democratic Deutschland. The Workers Paradise. Alles ist in Ordernung.

A walk through the ruins Bullet holes in the buildings All gone in West Berlin A Trabant shutters by Like an out-of-control lawnmower. No people on the streets. Very few in Karl Marx Platz Parking anywhere. On a back street Nothing to buy in the shops The sound of boots A Soviet patrol Goose-stepping Like Nazis A German cellar bar Order Berliner Pilsner For the twelve people at the tables No one drinks them. They are all Stazi Henri says Secret police Like the Gestapo. We leave East Berlin Without even a postcard.

Back in the West Capitalism on the K-Damm We have Persian smack We are young. Free Both of wish Christine F was with us. Henri more than me They are something. At now for now In both West and East Berlin Fur Immer and always.