This morning the council dumped big bins.
Quick, said Susan. We've just got time
to chuck the dryer out and all those tins
of procrastinated sins that you can find.
We heave them with a clunk
as our neighbours add a stove,
once showroom proud but now just junk
or a soon to be buried treasure trove.
Scavengers arrive to scrutinize the purge.
With delving snouts they pull things out and mutter,
while we like frenzied ants obey a counter urge
to rid our lives of clutter.
Politely civilized, as each of us vies
to pilfer from the wreckage of our suburban lives.