Stuart Miller-Osborne

Joe there have been a number of movies about poets Many are overblown and rather dramatic Imagine if you are in Milan Which movie would you favour Storie di ordinaria fillia I think that movie looks into the soul And the considerable pain of being a poet I am going to ask Josephine the same…

What are you watching Joe Our movie We played a Spanish couple Who are double booked in error It is a comedy of matters With an uptight English couple Mixing with a liberal poet and his son The other reason that we got the parts Was that the movie was almost bankrupt And you had…

Whilst Wandering around a Saturday Market Italian Cinema in the Nineteen Sixties La Dolce Vita and many others movies A framed poster was for sale But what I found really fascinating Was that a single brown leaf Had fallen from a nearby tree And was quietly resting Under an Autumn Sun

Joe why do call your cat Zarathustra It is such a ridiculous name You should have called it Kitty Or Snowy It is a black cat Josie I find it such a mouthful That does not normally bother ewe Especially if she will not come in from the garden We live on the second floor…

On the very same afternoon I boarded a train heading for a warmer climate And for a meeting with a Persian poet What a mysterious note this is Josef Where did you find it Twisted in your undergarment Marie K It must have fallen from the book That I found on a station in Prague…

As part of my studies What are you studying Domestic Science Seriously I am studying Catholicism Are you going to take Holy Orders No I get a free trip to Italy As I said as part of my course I was invited to visit a convent Masturbating nuns and all that That is a fallacy…

Who are you My name is Mike What is your job That is classified information You are the senior bodyguard No comment Your job is to keep the scumbag alive What scumbag A very senior politician You have failed Mike As his brains are decorating his office You are now unemployed Try for a job…

My sister had rescued An injured snow owl From a barbed wire fence This had exhausted us We were so very dry Ice we pleaded for ice On that deep July evening But our pleas soon faded Into the cool silences Of the approaching night

I have just written my most political poem It contains no political thought Just violence It is a celebration of violence

I can remember the allotments next to the tracks The fathers of fathers and their honest sons Managed our beautiful stations Which were always clean Even the halts were visited And flowers were planted Women were generally safer travelling Attacks were rare and the punishments severe I was brought up next to this station The…