Forty years after the Allies turned the war
~
I met Michel in Venice’s Ghetto Ebraico,
before a train to Hamburg to see
my college roommate, who spent her evenings
hosting European friends all like Michel, all
in love with her and New York.
At a café near the zoo, people
silently watched as I entered, unlike the
old Deutscher Mann who passed me on
an iron Hauptbahnhof staircase, grumbling Ficken Juden,
just loud enough for it to pierce.
~
Today, tourists stand mute near the salt-worn
graves in Lido’s bounded grounds. The Hauptbahnhof
is free of old soldiers. Strident students
encamp in the shadow of Alma Mater,
chanting their furious words, immune to time.
(First published by Skyfreight Publishing House, June 3, 2026)
Rob S. Friedman 