MRS GRIFFITH'S COCKY

Mrs Griffiths has a cocky

who lives in a dome shaped cage

and when he gets his dander up

boy, listen to him rage.

He jabbers and he natters in

a scratchy high pitched tone,

he screams abuse and threatens

till Mrs G yells, ”Leave the bird alone!”

With her fag dangling from her lip

she lets him do a flit

up and down the neighbours ‘fences

whereupon he then commences to

pull all the marigolds and dahlias

to bits.

We love Mrs Griffith’s cocky

when he hangs upside down

and swings in lazy motions

like some white and feathered clown.

From the clothesline wire he dangles,

first on one leg ,then on two,

and his beady eyes are darting round

for wicked things to do.

With a graceful practised swoop,

he lands upon the chicken coop

and rocks there, jeering at their

slow and clucking ways—

till Mr G comes home and as he

lurches up the drive

with his beer and cigs and pies,

Cocky does a screaming dive:

‘Jack’s alive, Jack’s alive!’

Then he goes into a death roll

and lands upon his back,

draws his legs up

and gives a little shudder.

And Jack stares at him, myopic,

and wonders if he’s dead,

till Mrs G emerges [with rollers on her head],

“Come on in youse silly nutters,

Time some cockies was in bed.”