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I’m not usually one for poetry, but I wrote this a few years ago when our bins started to be emptied only once a fortnight. This upset me. A lot. It’s written in the Glaswegian dialect, but I think you should be able to understand it anyway.

On Recycling

Poo poo clenny man
Ma bin’s up tae the top.
Ah huvnae room fur ony mair
This madness has tae stop.
Ma fish’n’chips frae Saturday
Ur reekin’ like a skunk.
They’re lyin’ there on top a peas
‘n’ totties, loads a gunk.
Ah clean up efter aw ma dugs
An’ dump it in ma pail.
Ah’m tellin’ you that two weeks oan
They poo bags start to wail.
Poo poo clenny man
Ma bin has room fur zero.
So come oan back tae wance a week
An’ bin man, you’re ma hero!

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