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A young man, made of ebony, from Senegal or Somalia or the Côte d'Ivoire, sat down beside me gracefully… I gave him the twenty euro that I had to hand. Stammering, ill at ease, he asked me what I had in mind.
You can't have your cake if it's eaten. Or your cooked goose if it's no good for a gander. Golden eggs are useless in a fragile economy. And what goes up must keep going.
Go and open the door .. stare at the bright blue sea .. for boats .. struggling southwards from Sri Lanka and Afghanistan. .. Feel the rippling fear of refugees .. wondering if supplies will last .. or a hand reach out .. or turn and lock the door.
At the IGA, the woman at the check-out peppers her speech with Darl. Her friendliness, the way she packs my plastic bags, greets me two days later – a connection Facebook can’t provide.
Lost — Waiting for Spring — God owes me Royalties — Niche — Folding & Flying — Judas and Jezebel — Donne captains a ship of fools — Home — Loose Change — election
Industrious servant of excellent fame .. You sting to protect the hive, then you die ... Instinct is such an unworthy name .. Which calls a selfless attitude, a lie.
You say to leave roses .. for the overcrowded arms of bikies .. You pop inflatable hearts and cut the strings .. of pink and stodgy cherubs .. You shoot down my skywriting plane mid-cliché .. This is not our day.
No good deed goes unplagiarised; no noteworthy scheme leaves the department unharvested. Lack the intellectual capital to spend on an informed decision? Set multiple minions to work then cherry pick the outcomes, signing off with your own trotter.
Come as you are, Marilyn Manson ... that's how I want you, Peter Kennedy ... Trust me again, Germaine Greer ... Don't run away, Catherine Deveney ... Nothing can change, Pope Benedict ... the love that I bear you, George Pell
He is Gabriel, delicately boned, familiar, .. he has turned towards the Virgin .. who stands in her long solemnity, .. amongst the sober prophets, .. and the proper saints.
Soundless as snow .. the leopard comes, .. all of his weight .. is in the gold of his predatory eyes ... behind the heavy, protecting glass ... eternally deprived of prey.
They're elderly, unstable, probably a couple, their cheerful eyes sprung like steel against the cold, their hands arthritic, resigned; their grip carrying no conviction. Concentration lapses. People fail to see. This has never been a Labour town.
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