The Bin

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Green rubbish bin,
with coffee stained lid,
placed between the cooker
and the sink full of cigar butts
and empty bottles of red wine.
Your halitosis is worse than mine
a Monday early
when I look into your interior
in the hope of finding a smokable butt,
but can’t because they are all coffee stained and damp.
You are not really practical
a lot of stuff falls outside of you,
attract ants, mice and flies,
so I’ll fill you with soil
plant flowers in your belly,
put you on the terrace
and use the supermarket’s plastic bags
as waste bins.