Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

The Credit Crunch

by Hannah Juby

At ten fifteen in the morning
a man washes up.
He wears a white tracksuit
with two black stripes
and an oversized coat
when he goes to check on the bins.
The dustmen still haven’t been.
So he scrubs the cups.
His wife is at work,
the cat is asleep,
and there are still two hours until lunch.
He finds a plate
painted with two-week-old food.
Two weeks ago.
He was working then.
This one was stuffed under the sofa.
He is ashamed.

Added: 26.04.2010

Judges' comments on this poem


Tone is sparse and effective. Strong ending.


Love the clarity and detail of this snap-shot. Well-chosen title.