Stuart Miller-Osborne

When I visit East Sussex On summer days I always bring a pad and a pen My pad stays with me Whilst my pen explores

On hot summer days A silence descends Which is so loud That it almost deafens Everything is quite still Yet frozen in motion

About a month ago I found myself On a lonely railway station In East Sussex It was surrounded By golden cornfields I was happy there

I have been called a winter writer On many occasions recently Which is so far from the truth As I am a child of the summer cornfields

My father once told me That if I wanted To discover the truth Behind any issue Then consult the statistics As they are rarely incorrect Unless they have been Previously contaminated By those who wish harm Joe

Joe Many people think that you are * ***** ** **** I am * ***** ** **** When you joke You do not take prisoners I will not be censored by fools A question I know that you like cartoons And have a collection of Giles books That is correct What was your favourite cartoon […]

Joe Regarding your question When I was growing up The term hate speech Did not exist The only time That I used hate speech Was when I said I hate kiver (liver) I really hate liver It is like eating a colostomy bag Did the police instead Of catching the bad guys Arrest me No […]

I assure you it is not Socialism is the politics of envy It is nothing else Have you noticed how controlling The government already is “You have to take the pain” Blame the abstract You only go on coach tours So we will take away the WFP Qu’ils mangent de la brioche Kafka Kafka Kafka […]

Stranded in an empty town Blank windows stare The watery sun Struggles to create the day

You turned up during the storm Soaked to the skin I gave you my bed And slept in the spare room Reading topless Owl glasses perched Am I still asleep Coffee Butter and Toast Erotic Poems of Summer