Stuart Miller-Osborne

Diane and Joof had been at the railway station They always went there on Tuesdays and Thursdays To watch the Blue Streamlined Trains pass at king speed Later they would bathe together in my bath as I prepared lunch Diane and Joof are my oldest friends and we live together I am in love with…

My happy place Is little more Than a road Caught between the sea And a shallow hill I often watch the buses As they climb the soft slopes That face my gentle home

This is my happy place An unmade road Leading to the beach Flanked by chic cottages And hinterland wastes I have spent many Happy hours here Caressing the sea

There was not even a whisper of dawn Darkness seemed to cover the blanket sky My duties to the light were now complete So I settled down for my sparse breakfast As I drank my limpid warm tea I thought about my coastal home Of my parents and their dog Had the sun risen there…

Tiscmet – an island within an island To Swim I own a sauna complex in Finland It brings me a modest income On this island we have one thousand lakes I often swim between the islands With my assistants We sometimes camp during the softer months Apa – the counting of leaves

Pandora is reading her Book of Kings Pandora is reading her Book of Ice Pandora is reading her Book of Nights Pandora is reading her Book of Dreams

It is over now rather brutally in my view The beach is something of a wasteland It is devoid of colour and glass gaze harsh Sister Summer South has now departed The sea is windswept and a dull drill grey It will remain like this for many months gripped I am wearing my cold night…

Yesterday was the fiftieth anniversary Of Stephen’s death in a car crash He was killed along with the driver of a London taxi On the evening of the 17th September 1973 In Castle Road Ealing West London Reports indicate that the driver lost control at high speed Due to a mechanical failure that caused his…

I was in Canterbury recently When I saw the fattest woman That I had ever seen Seriously she was fat I was wondering if anybody Had ever fucked her That is cruel Joe In a way I thought it might To be really honest Have been physically impossible Was she beautiful Joe Far from it…

You sent me a photo of yourself Reading Henry Miller On the Left Bank I told you it was not original And rather cliched You sent me postcard Stained with tears I sent you a postcard Stained with blood It was hard to discover Who was apologising