56 – Bin Lorry From Hell

Poem number 56
Bin Lorry From Hell
The bin lorry thunders through pre-morning streets
A cacophonous torrent of sound
That municipal tank with its clatters and clanks
Scares a milkman who’s still on his round.
The engine screams back from the wall of the vets
And rattles the glass in the door
The rumble that’s forced through the massive exhaust
Brings tremors and quakes to the floor.
As the truck pummels past there’s a rush and a blast
Of hot air that swirls cyclones of muck
Dead leaves jump and spin round a vacuum within
In the wake of this terrible truck.
An assault on the senses that bounces off fences
To echo in front and behind
The noise and the smell are a gateway to hell
And the headlights could leave a man blind
A moment of terror for those out of bed
And engaged in pedestrian things
Then the noise fades away in the new morning grey
And a bird plucks up courage to sing.
With the bin lorry gone as the day moves along
There’s a sense that that fright was a dream
The rush and the roar and the trembling floor
And the engine that revved to a scream.
The memory will fade like an over-washed sock
‘Til next week at the same time and place
When the truck will return all demonic, infernal
And punch you again the face.


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