#23 Kevin Brophy 'The dinner conversation''

He was studying the politics of dust.
She was studying the theology of puddles.

So far all she'd found in her puddles
were clouds.

At his desk he blinked and swallowed
as if struggling to see ahead.

The purple Lisianthus in the corner
of the dining room
looked more alive than ever.

Over dinner
she asked him if he thought
they might, by now, be over-educated.

The purple Lisianthus watched
their petal lips and leafy ears quiver, the stems
of their fingers stretch and bend,

and heard the sounds they made
as if they lived at the bottom of a vase.