by Penelope Moffet

for Gilah Hirsch

We ate in a fancy restaurant
where elderly waiters refilled our water glasses
every 30 seconds, brushing crumbs off our table
between courses. Both soft-spoken,
we misheard each other’s every turd
but enjoyed the whole mailed lobster.
There were lots of plates for the smells.
The crème brulee a luscious mustard,
reminding G of flan she used to make.
The thing about that flan was,
when it was ready, it was gone.

IMAGE: Lobster Telephone by Salvador Dali (1938).

moi march madness 2019

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Several years ago my friend Gilah Hirsch treated me to a meal at an elegant, over-staffed restaurant where neither of us could make out much of what the other was saying, but the auditory misinterpretations led to a lot of laughter. Somehow, that day, it was more fun to misunderstand each other than to understand.

PHOTO: In March 2019, Penelope Moffet (left) dines with Gilah Yelin Hirsch (right) and friends on another festive occasion. (Photo by Cynthia Wood)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Penelope Moffet is the author of three chapbooks, most recently Cauldron of Hisses (Arroyo Seco Press, 2022). Her poems have been published in Gleam, One, Natural Bridge, Permafrost, Pearl, The Rise Up Review, The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Verse-Virtual, Gyroscope, and other literary journals. She lives in Southern California.