YOU HAVEN'T SAID A WORD YET Poem by Alfred Schaffer

What has to change here? There is no middle course, the escalator works,
the coffee is hot, the trains leave on the dot, the traffic jams unblocked.
What's past would fit with ease into a backpack. There is no middle course,
gradually we have got used to it, no real surprises left

not on the face of it, though there is no end to our nocturnal operations.
The tourist who spots no one in the hall of the hotel, the neighbour
washing his car in his dressing gown, his wife who comes humming,
the bride-to-be repeating her ‘I do' while in the toilet.

Fortunately these interruptions are only brief, tomorrow is another
day. My accent just needs getting used to sure - you see me standing
here, with bloody nose, fresh from the frontline? Everything for you my love,
the proofs are for the taking. Put in a good word for me if you dare.