The waste from the week went through the shredder,
[its guard taken off for convenience' sake].

Gary arrived on a borrowed Suzuki,
to load up the bottles and milk crates of plastic,
looking forward to lunchtime, and "a girt bloody steak."

A cross, a lighter and a pencil stub,
nestled in squeaky polymer bubbles.......

A foreman had scooped them together with packing
and stuffed them into a brown padded bag,
then sent them, registered, to a relation,
whom Gary the boy, once thought of as Dad.

That's all they had found
of Gary the lad,
in mountains,
of polymer chips, on the ground.

Gary's "uncle" received a brief explanation
while the cross, the lighter and
the pencil stub, lay like antiques
in the palm of his hand.

Gary's "uncle" received them,
with a rare note of sadness,
scratched his head
and declared it a shame,