Their simple wants and thoughts are few,
Self-satisfied in all they do,
Busily they strut along,
Absorbed in living's daily song.

Sleekly dressed and beady-eyed,
When musing, tilt their heads on side;
Squabble over who's the best,
Yield to bullies, peck the rest.

They go in flocks, and all conform,
Strive hard to meet the flockly norm,
With appetites that never end,
Omnivorous two-legged friends.

Comforted by bath and feed,
Easily led on by greed,
Intent on joys before their eyes:
Heedless, mindless and unwise.

They poke about for this 'n' that,
Bottoms wiggle, soft and fat,
Cluck and cackle at the weather,
Wind a-flustering their feathers.

If our poultry could but speak,
They'd declare with single beak
That man, for all his sinful warp,
Would make a first-class Australorp.