The Date Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Eight o’clock under the railway clock, she said.
I had bought flowers only because mother said
it was the right thing to do.

Nine o’clock, drizzle, flowers wet I felt daft, and
was hungry too. Threw flowers into a bin walked
to the restaurant; our table, still free. I had steak
with salad, potatoes and a bottle of red wine.
I had been stood up, but looked cool, I often go
out for a meal alone so what’s the big deal?

My date, Sandra, showed up at eleven and out of
breath, train delayed. Now the kitchen had closed,
but she got a bag of crisp.