Lewisham Riddle
Emily Hay
We are despised, among the low, the lowest,
Filthy from consuming what you throw us,
Except when you find different uses, steal us
Away, cleanse us, and feed us with your treasures.
One of us, retrieved from the Dead
Sea had been pulled half way round the world –
Shepherds finding it knew it was valuable,
Branded with its owner’s name indelibly.
You remember us arriving overnight –
A faceless army lined up on the street.
Our conquest caused a sudden change: some sounds,
Of crashing lids and clangs came to an end.
We are awkward, legless, steered by kicks -
But our roll and balance save men’s backs.
We are unseen, familiar, but lurk
In photographs of urban architecture.
We are much studied by tramps who, staring hard
Inside us, find names and numbers to unlock credit cards.
Grey sentry boxes big enough to hide a man,
Too deep for you to leap from – wheelie bins.
