Stuart Miller-Osborne

Jenny Colon was the object Of my sane adoration My actress died in her thirtieth year Her spirit is now my constant companion I am now quite certain of another world Where lovers can meet and share their days Jenny Colon is much more mine in death Than she ever was during her very short…

Quatrième partieAn incident on the Palais-RoyalWas much discussed after his death The Poet was found leading a lobster Using a ribbon that matched the young sky When asked he replied quite seriously That lobsters do not bark and bite passers by They also know all the secrets of the sea

Troisième partieThe tragedy of his life Ended on the Rue de la Vieille When in the early morning light A drunk found his lifeless body It was suspended from an iron railing He had in his possession an apron string Which he thought was the diamond garterOf the Queen of Sheba And with this final…

Deuxième partie Do you dream my poet like friend I do every night What do you dream about I have but one dream Tell me more It is about the beautiful Mirelle Who shares my tiny room I am in my bed Yet Mirelle disturbs my sleep She is standing in front of me Wearing…

Première partieDo you dream my lobster like friend I do every night What do you dream about Other lobsters in pornographic positions Do you enjoy your dreams I cannot say that I do Why is that The reason is obvious As I am just a lobster And we are not designedFor pornographic adventures

I had never wanted to act But when the chance arrived I accepted the role Of Red Berries Who is a mute drifter Trying to solve The murder of a model Cold since the late nineteen fifties It is quite a twisted movie Which is forever eating away At its own rotten core I have…

TBC

What happened I threw a pan of boiling water At a famous chef Why Because he murdered A lobster in Milton Keynes It was selected at random Read this Tiff It is in Portuguese The Braille translation Is on the reverse side Boil a live lobster in heavily salted water For eight to ten minutes…

Did she end up in a boiling pot At a popular Parisian brothel Or did she travel with the boy poet Away from the madness of his pen

Was the little known name Of a most famous lobster After her gentle master died Little is known of her fate She was seen occasionally But faded soon afterwards Into the alleys and backstreets Of her previous haunts