At one end of the restaurant table it is the year 2012
and C. has just returned from a trip around the world,
to Brazil and Egypt and South Africa, India
and Thailand and New Zealand. At the other
end of the table it is 1945 and M. is in a jeep
beside a highway in Germany as 27 Sherman tanks
roar by at sixty miles an hour. I sit in the middle
and perform the spell that keeps the tanks from
crushing the table and my grilled flatbread
and my India Pale Ale and my wife's tomato
soup and grilled cheese sandwich and all of us
who are here beneath their treads. I can do that
with ease, yet spectacular sparks arc across
the voltage drop between now and long ago.
The voltage is high but the amperage low -
the sparks seldom harm but oh, what a show.