State Security

Night. The Stasi in the dark,
floodlit to inflate their cheeks
above small moustaches.
Their guns. How old were you?

West of the Wall was free
to refine the basic rat skills.
So thin, you could sneak
inside a shadow

till it became your home.
Everything is cheap to quick
and empty fingers. You might run
all the way to Amerika

without slipping into the sea.
Your smile could fit
through a keyhole,
shimmy through a marrow

to the bone. In broad daylight
could you steal from the safer
side a place you might
call home?

-- Taylor Graham