Stuart Miller-Osborne

I met Polaroid Pink at the Service Station She was wearing her fathers Brown suit I was wearing a Grey suit Which once belonged To my mother

Little Sunny Brook Farm No longer exists It has been replaced By a motorway service station With a DaDa Theater attached

The old lambing shed Is now my bedroom I also keep the vacuum cleaner Near the fractured door

I have recently requested Rgat an air raid siren Be Installed on the farm Even though the war is over I have called it Simone

When the delivery lorry arrives My daughter dresses As a Polar Bear

When my Fayjer died We buried him in the farmyard But within the week The cows dug him up So we fed him to the pigs Who were later sold to butcher The cows of allisom are no longer In the fields of allisom As the butcher offered us a fair price I no longer […]

My tractor is in the barn It is ready for use I am in bed with Angel a The clouds are heavy It is going to rain The fields can wait I am too fond of them My daughter is in a wheelchair She was born a farmers daughter But is no longer a farmers […]

Chickens in cages in a lorry I followed the vehicle For about half an hour Until it pulled into Services Carol The driver had left his keys In the ignition such was his rush So I stole the chicken lorry And drove to Abbey Farm Where I released the chickens Cage by cage row by […]

Often when I am milking the cows  I think of Great Yarmouth  And wood shavings  I think of you  Sitting naked in the shit  Oblivious of the stench  Written on my phone in Cambridgeshire 

I have never belonged to a school I do not care that much As my talent for what it is Is a solitary talent I thrive in the vacancy Of my own thoughts These are just words That I happen to knit together I believe that have no real style Which may be a style […]