Stuart Miller-Osborne

This group was only active For little more than a generation And then the world became real Many were posted overseas To fight in a war that was not theirs Sadly a few did not return And in the fall of 1946 Only eight of the original Blue Hampshire Attended the reunion in Madison Creek […]

It really is Just think about it Each side of a triangle Equals the others 1234 . .. … ….

Free speech in academia What is that Joe The Final Solution For all the so called progressives Are going to execute all the progressives Grow up Karl and for fucks sake take you hands out of your pockets Are you denying my right to identify as a wanker I would rather that you identified as […]

It was much easier going then Josie Women were less tight Free love Not exactly But you can see my drift I loved the clothes of the era Hippy chick chic I did not really wear a bra Until you and Joe were born I was very proud of my breasts They identified me I […]

Josie Joe Are you wearing panties today Yes why do you ask Interested If ewe have to no I have an infection Where In my fucking ear I have not kissed your ear recently You have beautiful ears But ewe have kissed my cunt With a lip sore Are you without infection Sephine At present […]

I chanced upon a foot race Running past The Cutty Sark It was a bright day With a back lit sun Illuminating the athletes A shift breeze Alerted the high flags Valerie Rising Waved to me From her window

An Intimate Epic A Mild City Evening Sharp Lit Wet Underfoot The Majestic Cathedral Dull Under Heavy Skies Dove Grey

During my journey I passed many emus  They shared my golden dreams  I dreamt of moats  That surrounded palaces  And a sun so vivid  That is illuminated the future  As well as the past 

This box has travelled with me  For many years It has adopted many disguises  When I finally unlocked this box  I was standing deep in a shocking river And found that it had always been empty 

We recently revealed around the West Country an often forgotten poem of mine I trad ir ro Sephine in an inn in Wells  Beautiful beautiful Wells  Tgis tint city amos glowed in the autumn light  She gave me a featuresless brown paper bag  Which obtained a mysterious book  I was instructed not to open my gift  Until the sun set slowly and silently over Somerset