Stuart Miller-Osborne

Edtim was sitting opposite me On a brightly painted chair She was reading The Selected Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke From my station I could see between her thighs It was a yellow day Which was the colour Oh her underwear I was writing an erotic poem About Edtim Zole

What are you doing I am writing a poem What have you called your poem The Barcodes of an English Gentleman What is it about The title will give you a clue But your are not English Clive And you are certainly not a gentleman Did I ever say that my poem was autobiographical

After many busy months travelling I had reached Edith’s cottage Her garden was splashed with colour With red roses hanging against the porch Edith was quietly watering the purple pinks In the shadows of the cooling day She was barefoot with her feet hidden In the shallows of our sea green lawn

A few years ago when I was in the USA My car broke down in the middle of a desert I was not that worried because help was near After a while a truck stopped offering assistance I explained what was happening we had a short chat Goodbye Cowboy This confused me As I had […]

From my window I can see moths Gathering around The Pink May Moon

Hi Silly Boy Long Time No Sea You live in Kettering Did you enjoy India Yes she was a dirty bitch How long have you been back About a thousand years What were your impressions of India Nice tits but her cunt was quite smelly No the country Silly Boy It was hot and the […]

He was an odd boy Joe was an odd child Who liked to visit the scenes of major train accidents His only rule was that twenty years history Twenty years history Twenty years would need to have passed Since the accident A boy has to have his hobbies Trains are such fun He would also […]

I found this online a few days ago Fuck nose who made it up Leads me to the question Who is Fuck Nose I am not Fuck Nose As I am normally The poor cunt Who times his visit When Liverpool are at Home No more jokes from Joe Societies that treat women badlyare poorer […]

Before you have your first chat/coffee/piss or moan of the day consider this from Maggie May The Government is the servant of the people They are not their masters The main parties would do well to remember this Joe

During his final illness John Clare Visited the moon In search of work As a agricultural labourer Instead he found several watercolours Painted by Samuel Palmer John never returned From the moon And as far as I am aware Samuel’s watercolours Are still in his leather case