The Speed of Light Stopped

Like babies and wombs
spindly beginnings
me with my shopping
and you in a laundrette

heading out
perhaps simultaneously
perhaps not
the spinning of a machine

and the buzz-whirr-ping cash register
connecting in the mains somewhere
a grid reference would be pointless here
at the speed of light stopped

some electricity
and pinch of an exotic herb
famed for attraction
masquerading as simple fraction

confounding the math
at the origin of a mistake
expotentially unfolding
its daft logic

transforming
on passing us
passing through this
time and again

sensing a chance
to exist where streets meet
in risky calculations
at the speed of light stopped

we walk.
Me with my carrier
and you with that bag.
Last time I saw it

was in New-Elgin.
You stepped on a bus,
swore
you'd never see me again.


Cor, 1996