The Bin Thing.

I don't know where it came from,
I don't know why it's there,
there's a creature in our wheelie bin
covered with spiky hair.

Such a revolting monster
it fills me with disgust;
its eyes are big and bulbous,
running with yellow pus.

Its ears are holes on either side,
its nostrils flat and thin,
and from a loose and wobbly mouth
it dribbles down its chin.

Its gums are black and putrid,
its pitted teeth are green,
it's just the most repulsive thing
the world has ever seen.

Its arms and legs are spindly,
its body soft as jelly,
digesting its disgusting food
in a big translucent belly.

And another awful thing,
I honestly don't think
that there's another creature that
makes such a dreadful stink.

We tipped our rubbish on its head
to make it go away
but it scoffed it all up gratefully
and settled down to stay.

I hear it in the dead of night,
when everyone's asleep;
propelled by scrawny, hairy arms
it trundles down the street.

It travels in our wheelie bin
on strange nocturnal jaunts,
to weird mysterious places where
it visits favourite haunts.

We hoped that when the bin men came
they would destroy its lair,
but they said it wasn't rubbish
so they left the thing in there.

We begged and  pleaded with them
but they would only say,
"It's not in our job description
to take monsters away."

And if we should stop giving it
our rubbish for its tea
I wonder, will it go away?
Or will it go for me?