The Poetry of Poo

Editor, Glebe Report 

 

Re: “My green bin is not for your dog poop,” Glebe Report, May 2024 

 

Green Bin 

by Quinn Horwood 

 

I am your local neighbourhood green bin, 

Please open me, and look within, 

I’m so glad we have met, and not a moment too soon, 

For I am barely full, and the garbage men will be here before noon, 

I am still so hungry for your apple cores and your orange peels, 

And even the crumbs from your on-the-go breakfast meals. 

 

Oh, and please don’t deprive me of your bags of dog poop, 

For the park bin has far less use for your fresh scoop, 

Whereas for my manure, there is nothing so sweet, 

And I am waiting patiently to receive it, out on the street. 

I cannot wait to turn this all into fresh compost, 

For that is my purpose, first and foremost. 

 

I’d hate to think others would consider me just theirs to use, 

I can’t quite understand what they think they would lose, 

Because an overnight or morning addition will not a disaster make, 

For I am strong and hardy, and certainly shan’t break, 

And even if I did become too soiled to be embraced, 

Please don’t fear since from the city I can always be replaced. 

 

So please, feed me your food waste, 

Let me have a nice taste, 

For if I’m out on the curb, 

I’m there for the whole ’burb. 

 

Dr. Emelia Quinn  

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