Stuart Miller-Osborne

Later when I was quite alone I stood up and read a chapter From South and West  Which was written by Joan Didion When I was sixteen years old     From Beach by Stephen Masefield    

My name is Mischa I am currently working as car park attendant at The Open It is a steady job even though it is temporary Occasionally I see one the big names They seem very nice Up to five years ago I was an addict And liked the idea of being dominated This brought me […]

Of late large clumps of black sea weed Have been washed up on the beach There is no rational explanation for this   The Genoa was sunk off of Kingsdown in 1945 She hit a lazy mine and sank within the hour There were no fatalities apart from the ships cat   I am a […]

We spent the afternoon on the beach Which surprisingly was not crowded Given that the bright sun overhead Was not being impeded by passing clouds   After about an hour and a half I decided to walk into the shallows But this recreation proved arduous As I was hit by a series of heavy waves […]

Cougars have been reported on this beach I cannot say that I have seen any And really only the bleached pebbles Are qualified to write this short poem

All feminists have been fucked Said the older actress to the ingenue It is either that or eternal masturbation Do not waste your time with politics Your femininity will soon fade If you swim against the tide Take my advice and enjoy men There are many good models out there They can be tamed and […]

At least once a day I think of my roads of innocence Whether this is a form of nostalgia is hard to say But it is fundamental to what I am   I am so in love that tears of happiness Run down my face as I load my rifle   Every act of rebellion […]

For many years I have had little to do with the devil But out of the blue I was asked to play golf with him The last time I played golf with the devil I lost heavily But he never returned for his wager as I thought he would That was until yesterday at dawn […]

I have always wondered Why cats have nine lives If life is so meaningless   After thinking about cats And their nine lives I realised that I had discovered God And now live next to a motorway With my nine happy cats

Her breath I think smells of my anus But I cannot confirm this As I have never visited my arse She was once a great beauty But has been hard fucked By most of the men in London And I would imagine their horses too Her teeth that in youth were pearly white Now resemble […]