Cockatoos, who rule the day,
ensure that peace stays far away.
As evening deeps, the cricket shrills:
be sure to take your headache pills.
Night falls. Frogmouth's softer hoot
has no button labelled mute.
Beneath bright stars, by window glass,
Christmas beetles rest their ass.
Great hordes, dazed by screen and pane,
recovering, brain themselves again.
Sink that last shot; slink to bed:
hours of nightmares lie ahead.
