Garbage

Garbage

Why do we do it?

Waste the taste of our chewing teeth,
Feed the bin and not the homeless, warm our stomachs until they open,
Give the fat dog food and the thin dog’s nowt,
Does this country have a heart?

No

They sleep, under the bridges of trains and busses, stained by a penetrating orange glow,
They hark at their colourless tartan blankets,
Weep at their unfortunate life and cry until the tears dry or fall and soak their not clothes,
Does this country have a heart?

No

Most look at them and lower their heads,
The sight of their crumby beards and their mangy dogs scares them somehow,
And they walk on, giving them no thought but doubt,
Does this country have a heart?

No

It sleeps close to its owner, long grey hair, a lumpy side, and black-brown teeth
We can spare the gristle from our meaty feast; give the bones of our turkey,
Let them rustle and swim in our bins and hope they find a meal,
Does this country have a heart?

No

Next time you see them, clutching an open hat, squeezing their starving dog,
Throw a penny and raise a smirk. Have no shame in what you give,
They are one of us. They feel what we do
Does this country have a heart?

Maybe…