A poem I wrote. I call it Fox.

I saw a fox the other day.
I watched it -
under the sodium streetlamps,
and the light of the moon

Jessie, while being attacked by a raccoon: "We got this! ...maybe we don't got this!"
#p4a2025

Honk is the thing with feathers 🪶
That perches in the soul 🐤
And sings the tune without the words 🎶
And - QUACK!
#p4a2025

I've fallen in love with the world and it's only broken my heart a hundred thousand times.

May you sleep long and wake up for your alarm

Some agnostic blessings:

Sometimes, I think about what it's like in other people's heads.

I tend to imagine other people feel quieter, but actually asking anyone, it doesn't seem true.

I've been thinking about the Wilfred Owen poem "Dulce Et Decorum Est" recently, which I would recommend (re)reading.

It's about the first world war, and the horror of war.

Today, I am grateful that there has been no conscription in my country since the time of my grandfathers.

I once explained that the solution to a maths problem I had written worked "because things are like other things". 🧮

I sometimes imagine that Australia was created to selectively breed humans to be tolerant to a variety of poisons.

Stick in there, Australians!

Oops, I skat.