Ships in the Night

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

I was standing beside her
at the Chinese take away,
very thin she was
her jeans too big,
no bum and her bust was a mere hint of
undulation under a blue blouse.
Not knowing what to order I said:
‘I’ll have the same as her”
To a pale, young cook who was trying to grow a moustache
but lacked facial follicles.
She looked up and smiled, left before me
but walked slowly so I could catch up with her.
We went to her bed-
sit it was shockingly untidy,
her bed reeked of sleepless nights.
We ate and in stillness smoked;
later we copulated without any pretense of passion.
Must have dozed off
for when I awoke
she sat by the gas fire reading a book.
‘Lets go to the pub.” I said
‘Yeah, OK.”
Pieces of driftwood
in a sea of singular loneliness.