Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Table

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Table

I.

Underneath hills of potatoes

And rivers of green pea soup

Ran the blade of the table.

II.

She was unsure if the plain white cloth that covered it

Suited the feast on the table

And matched the horror and the glory of the occasion.

III.

The table grew between them

Stretching into an all-night wordless gluttony

IV.

They sat in fragrant silence

A man and a woman

Waiting to be one

At the table laden with unspoken words

V.

She did not know what to offer him next

A sublime conversation about Platonic shadows

Or the raillery of juicy innuendoes

The table groaning

Under yet another platter.

VI.

Rain knocked on the window

Ever so gently

The table didn’t let it in

But turned on them instead

They suddenly felt softer and lighter

As if they had never eaten.

VII.

O fat people of the city,

Why do you dream of golden plates and silver spoons?

Why can you not see that the table

Is all

You need?

VIII.

I know the delicate flow of gourmet hors d'oeuvres

On clinquant trays

But I know, too,

That the table is involved

In what I know.

IX.

When the food was cleared away

The table stood in its rectangular beauty

Without expectations.

X.

Wine stains and breadcrumbs on the white tablecloth

Were the only memories

Of the first supper.

She dropped a knife.

XI.

They were still full after dessert,

But getting hungry again.

Since they ate their words on an empty stomach,

Impatience and fear of the unknown spilled like coffee

All over the table.

XII.

The table was no longer between them

They wiped it dry from tears.

XIII.

It was evening all night

It never rained

The rising sun made dust dance on the table

They ate and ate

All the words unheard, unsaid, untasted.