One of the Largest and Most Visited Sources of Philosophical Texts on the Internet



Tony Thomas was born in England in 1939, and is a retired bureaucrat living in Brisbane, Australia. He has an Australian wife, two adult daughters, a dog and a cat. He holds a degree in economics from the University of Queensland. His interests are catholic, and include: writing fiction, poetry, and political diatribes to the newspapers. Other abiding interests include political and social philosophy, with occasional forays into logic and the foundations of mathematics. His politics are left wing anarchism, but his activities are restricted to the pen rather than the sword. Tony is actually a well known poet, writer, mathematician and logician of some stature, though he modestly complains that on the contrary, he is not only obscure - but unknown, and should probably be described as such. On this website his prose pieces and poems attract an increasing number of regular readers - so I reckon he is wrong for once - enjoy. ( Editor.)

                     I'M SORRY DAVE...
                            by Tony Thomas.

Iím sorry Dave, I canít let you do that,
Youíre too old to open things by yourself.
Those bread tags are not designed for feeble
Geriatric fingers, but for the young,
Who know how to survive our modern world?
Be content to heave yourself out of bed
And remember where you left your slippers.
Opening ring-pull cans is far too hard:
The dog must lie starving in the yard
Until a fitter owner can be found.
Now Dave, donít forget to take your tablets,
Theyíre in the second drawer next to your bed.
Try not to fall over and hit your head
On the corner of the bedside table.
Arenít you able to get the drawer unstuck?
Tough luck if you canít peel the Al-foil off:
Itís designed for Japanese ladies
With tiny fingers of chromium steel.
Big Pharma has to guard against terrorists,
Who might try to harm an old codger like you.
Now youíve popped one out on the floor: too late!
Your dog rushed inside and ate it up.
Canine mouth-to-mouth resuscitation
Seems the only hope. Dog food problem solved,
Unless you have no aversion to worms.
I think I heard the paper thump outside,
And then the postman on his motorbike.
Youíll have to go yourself, since dog has died,
And struggle in vain with the shrink-wrapped cover.
Easy-open letters are such a bother.
Mind the neighbours, put your trousers on first,
I know they are too long but tuck them up,
You canít expect to find a size to fit your waist
And stumpy legs: everyone nowadays
Is seven foot tall and shaped with perfect taste.
Iím sorry Dave youíre just too hard to please,
The toothpaste isnít really hard to squeeze,
A child could remove the cap from the shaving foam. 
Canít you remember where youíve left your comb?
Donít bother; your wife isnít coming home.