Stop shoving stuff through my door,
It’s really becoming a bore,
All kinds of media tat,
Arrives on my mat
Every day with a sure certainty,
There arrives, more or less, half a tree,
Of leaflets and bumf,
And an advert for podiatry.
The wastage is surely a sin,
As every last one hits the bin,
Fed up with the clutter,
I angrily mutter,
How will I fit them all in?
If I wanted to sponsor a cat
Or shed some of my unwanted fat,
I’d get on the ‘net,
And here’s a safe bet,
I would find info as easy as that!
The days of the leaflet are dead,
None of them ever get read,
The environment’s fine,
As it’s all there online,
So let’s stick with ‘virtual’ junk mail instead!