The mail is still being delivered along the Birdsville Track despite a dispute between station owners and Australia Post over a recently imposed mail service levy.
I think I’ll send a letter in my somewhat florid prose
Along the track of dust and dreams to where the Cooper flows,
Where wearily its waterholes await another flood’
The Outback’s in my city veins and Birdsville’s in my blood.
I think I’ll send myself by post, that’s if the price is right
To where the campfire’s flickering while stars patrol the night.
While dawn is glowing on the rim, I’ll do my bathroom chores,
Uncrowded, in the generous stream of hot, artesian bores.
So send me then as parcel post aboard the mailman’s truck,
And fasten me with sticky tape in case I come unstuck
When overhead the brilliant sun across the sky has carved
Please leave me by a station gate when dinner’s being served.
The moonlight on the gibbers shines, the coolibah will sway
And ghostly camel bells will ring along that storied way
Across the Diamantina’s ford we’ll give a cheerful hail
The best bag you’ll find is me among the Birdsville mail.
Max Fatchen