Bernard tells me
my people don’t exist.
He searched for them
using arcane stratagems known only to his people
only to discover
that nothing can be found about my grandparents
and their business
or their home
before the war.

“It’s like,” he said,
“They were wiped away,
as if some ultimate chemical cleanser -”
“- Like a final solution?” I ask.
“- Yes!” he exclaims,
“- was used to eradicate
all evidence of them.”

So
no trace of the Bergers
on their ancestral homeland
of Staten Island
which means
I can continuing denying
having roots back there
in that backwards borough.

So,
I guess,
win some, lose some.