Drowsy drivers die
Dying drivers drowse
While descending dark ditches
Dangling delicately over
Until crashing creatively into
Drooling ghouls doze
Slobbering in some great dream
While galloping into the path of a barrelling B-Double
And crumpling like a crazy accordion
Containing a kaleidoscope of painful colours.
Nodding napsters note nothing
As they gracefully miss the corner
And collapse carelessly into the caress
Of an ancient red gum
Joyfully oblivious to the oblivion
They have embraced.