I'm the only crowd
At this cold field,
Sound of studs
On gravel
Tells me something about time.

The German coach talks
As he squeezes sponges
About the Russian they've got,
Works over in Selby;
Placing of his bucket
Tells me something about space.

Motorway noise.
I'm the only crowd.
The Russian runs up the cold field,
And the tackle that breaks his leg
Tells me something
About time and space.

The German coach says
'He'll have to go to hospital on his own,
I hope they can comprehend him'
And that word comprehend
Tells me something about lan
Guage.




This poem is one of the bus-stop poems specially commissioned by centrifugalforces
to be read on Wap enabled devices. Visit our Wap site at www.centrifugalforces.co.uk