These verses were created using only recycled words that have been used before by others

I visit the recycling bins

To clear myself from cluttering things

There’s three bins there for types of glass.

Clear, green, brown: all gonna smash.

Cardboard, plastic, paper, shoes,

Computers that’ve had their use,

Mobile phones and old paint tins

All in the recycling bins.

I wonder sometimes where it goes

This stuff that doesn’t decompose.

To furnaces to be re-fired

And use again as is required

Or sterilised and filled once more

Or shredded up and pulped before

A life as fertiliser, oh

I wonder sometimes where it goes

There was a hoo-ha here once,

A story that went on and on.

Some supermarket, went the drama,

Was plastic-wrapping its bananas.

The world’s gone bonkers, headlines cried,

The yellow bit protects inside.

The media felt it terribly wrong

The hoo-ha that was here once.

These days we’ve got those magic bins

They try and cover everything

There’s one for clothes, for batteries

For rubble and for Christmas Trees

But they don’t got one for my brain -

I’ll take that bastard home again -

My pickled kidney, knackered liver,

My bloodshot eyes, my nighttime shiver,

My off-beat heart, my aching limbs

Just don’t fit in the magic bins.

But when I die, I won’t be lost;

Bury me naked: Joe-compost