Stuart Miller-Osborne

I am on my daily journey Around this decaying city It is full of traitors Many not born On this island I would like to correct This appalling geography Before it contaminates The perfection of our sewers

The trees are in their fourth phase Green gold in the early sun The remains of summer Can still be seen spread By the recent storms All my beautiful patterns Now lead to Trieste

Mike and I have broken up I thought he was the one As he ticked all the boxes But his fucking music Is more important than me This said there is a problem As we jointly own this flat And cannot afford to split It is going to be an interesting winter

Joe was standing In a legoland Bus shelter More wet than dry He had tired of humanity An elderly woman Sat opposite him She had two bottles Of scotch in her pathetic bag And was protecting them Like they were the children That she had abandoned Before she was twenty years Everybody was smoking What […]

I once told my geography teacher That she was emotionally constipated When she asked me what I meant I told her that she was full of shit I was suspended for that remark A few months after I returned I was sent off During a rugby match against St Piran’s School My crime was that […]

It was a hot afternoon I had finished my work And decided to cool off In the Rex Bleu Rex A double bill was advertised L’ Etranger and L’ Etranger The cinema was empty Save for the regular lovers I slumped into my usual seat And drank iced water Touched with lime Sleep overcame me […]

The story of Lady Godiva Is very well known But few know the truth As she was just a visiting mermaid Who happened to be passing through the city On her way to visit a sick friend

I do not live that far from the sea And in that time I have made the acquaintance Of a number of local mermaids Last year I met a visiting mermaid from the tropics Who accompanied me to a carnival of the sea It was a rewarding day but my companion became rather confused When […]

It is not a well known fact That large numbers of sailors Previously drowned in terrible storms Are rescued by passing mermaids Their lifeless bodies find soft refuge In the aprons of these beautiful creatures And are transported into the shallows Where their future lives are waiting

Love is Dead is Love is Dead is Love Love is Dead is Love is Dead is Love Love is Dead is Love is Dead is Love Love is Dead is Love is Dead is Love Love is Dead is Love is Dead is Love Love is Dead is Love is Dead is Love