Stuart Miller-Osborne

Dream Aloud On A Cloud 

Dream Aloud In A Cloud 

Song  Grey Grey  All Day Long The Tedious Chill Suffocates  These are the Hateful Winter Days  These are the Months of Treason Warm Robin Warm Robin Warm Robin 

Sitting alone in a vast desert He thinks about self  And the music of self  He sees things  That I cannot see  And am never likely to see  We are both desert scientists  Joined together but living apart 

It was a special day today  Milly and I exchanged gifts  Gentle loving gifts  I received a porcelain  Japanese doll  Who I named Wel Hun  I was told that she in a past life  Had been a Kamikaze pilot  But was bad at her job   On her first mission  She forgot her plane  And ended up headbutting …

I want to cum all over you  I want to pour my decaying acid  Down your filthy socialist throats  A suffocating man wrote this  As he drowned in his own reality   He was once a good friend of mine 

but nobody listens  nobody cares  esther never smiles 

I look at my pale fingers  These fingers have taken  Three political lives  They have created history  Yet remain unknown 

When I am not Otherwise engaged  In the trenches  I write pornographic poems 

I own a shop in a small Yorkshire village  Which sells up market woollen products Brightly coloured sweaters cardigans and scarves  I call my shop anthropologie It used to be called the white shop  This has confused some of the locals  Who tell me that my shop Has a fucking stupid name