Charity

Twenty-five dollars a month.

Tax deductible?

Now you’re talking.

To put a face on a smile,

 yes, I did see it on TV,

in an African village.

A personal touch.

Yes, I’m sure we can afford it.

Oh, I have to write to them as well?

Maybe the kids can do that.

Good for show and tell.

A cheque will do?

Ah, direct debit from my account.

Excellent. That way,

I won’t even have to think about it

any more.

Animal logic

Does a bird think

I am bird

or a dog

I am dog?

Or does the bird

just live birdness,

the dog

dogness?

Does Jasper think

I feel sad?

No, he just stands there

dog-eared,

tail drooping,

attentive,

until the next

good thing happens

and wags his tail.

Please do not reply

as this mailbox is not monitored

this is a message from the department of human services

you have a new centrelink letter available online

you should view your letter as soon as possible

by going to the inbox in your mygov account

if you do not have one you will need to create one first

by going to the website and then linking it to centrelink

or one of our express plus mobile apps

if you do not have an express plus mobile app

you can download one to your smart device

from the app store or google play ™

or the australian government department of human services

and logging on to centrelink services online

if you do not have an online google play ™ 

app mobile smart device services account

call lifeline or the black dog institute

whichever you prefer

Doyle's maxims

Sing for your supper.  Howl for your dessert.

Always get up on the wrong side of the bed.

Don’t gossip.  Loose lips are too attractive.

Plant the seeds of discontent and water them daily.

Don’t grow up.  It stifles the imagination.

Try, try, then try to stop trying.

Don’t eat your heart out.  Become a vegetarian.

Don’t tell anyone about your worst habits.

Pretend not to notice the dirt.

Take one disaster at a time.

Don’t forgive bastards.

Never look a fascist in the muzzle.

Keep one foot in the grave.

Bridges

Eduardo showed me photographs

of him in the Guardia Civil

with his handsome moustache

on a bridge in Peru

holding a mortar

aimed at distant terrorists.

Eduardo has spent the night

at Fairfield hospital

with his sleepless little girl.

I love her so much,

he says with a sad smile.

Eduardo is learning English

to get a job as a security guard.

I see him now

in front of a bank

with his handsome moustache

thinking of his daughter

safe in her suburban home

and the weight of the mortar

and the bridge.