New poem: Falafel

I was thinking about the indeterminacy of being,

and the uncertainty principle. I was wondering

how many times approximation falls short of the

precise point and where or how this intersects

with the universal tendency towards entropy. I

saw people in the street around me burdened

with a sense of inexactitude, people who displace

disappointment on to postponement and alongside

the road was a light box with the flashing sign

‘Delays possible’. I went into a cafe and bought

a falafel wrap, without the chili sauce.