Stuart Miller-Osborne

I was sent to a fine university To study nothingness Circles were my specialised field

When my mother was raped She became pregnant And tried to abort me But the doctor was drunk Which scared her I have hated my mother since

I am flying to Amerika Which is quite stressful As I do not like flying I purchased three novels reissued Molloy Malone Dies The Unnamable These will pass the time Whilst I am in the air If my plane crashes Then time will not pass As it will cease to exist

We would like to film a selection of your poems Would you be able to translate them Yes but most of my poems are impossible to film Why Because dreams cannot be filmed

There is locally an unmade road Dating from the last war That leads directly into the sea It is one of the many wartime roads That can be found along our coast These are the white freedom roads

I am due to be executed In an hour for desertion But this will not happen As in my dream last night I travelled in warped time And strangled their wretched mothers The Brother of Viola’s Brother

I often take photographs of myself Swimming in blue hue sea me My art is at once beautiful and bold I resemble a mermaid or so I am told

I choose to stay indoors On moonlit nights As I am aware of her vapours

Evenings Lengthen High Sky Sun Days of Wonder

Hollow Chimes White Flags of Surrender Leaving a City of Pleasure