Stuart Miller-Osborne

I had left a cinema Bathed in sunlight As I made my way Across the humid city

I took the long route to the cinema As I had lost my sense of direction The storm clouds were building Yet it did not attempt to rain I visited Spain But did not travel

I am sitting In a summer field Feeding my newborn She is staring At the low trees That shade the sun

I was tasked to spend My last hour With the condemned man As I was the only soldier In my broken unit To have retained his faith We had arrested a young priest Neither of us spoke As if we were enjoying the silence When I finally asked him If he was afraid of death…

Lumpenproletariat Who can tell me what that means Miss when you cross your legs I can see your knickers That is a sinful occupation Stephens Your mother would be ashamed of you That is if you have parents at all Quoting from Prikipedia In Marxist theory the Lumpenproletariat is an underclass devoid of class consciousness…

My village is defined by the huge river How I wish I could cross that river Which is impossible even in the summer This area is known for its beautiful orchids I live with my aunt who decorates parasols These are much sought after by those from cities She says that my talent is far…

You were asleep on the bed I was watching you dream You then joined me by the window We shared a cigarette and chatted quietly About the humidity and stillness of the night

I have a blue ticket which permits me To travel to the main city and return Please let me borrow your shawl These are my sweetest memories

There is a gate much damaged by war Standing across the only road out of town It was once occupied by the rifles of brutal snipers So many innocents died as they tried to escape And their pale ghosts haunt the wide snow wastes

Jane and I went to a coastal fair She danced a tango with a coffee pot And purchased an eighteenth century book Along with a tiny doll late of Normandy