We all like familiarity in our lives. On our street, some of that familiarity is provided with the arrival of the bin men around 0800 every Tuesday. When they fail to arrive on schedule, you notice their absence.

Here is a poem, penned while I wait for them.

Where are the men in their hi-viz jackets?

Who parade down the street collecting our packets,

Removing the bottles, the papers and cans

By throwing it all into the backs of their vans.

Where can they be, I hope they’re all right,

And that they arrive soon to collect all this shite.