Stuart Miller-Osborne

When I awoke this morning I was a little concerned to discover that I had become Spanish overnight   My rabbit had begun to call me Juan and my wife was called Elena   Apart from that everything else had remained the same   Or at least I thought it had for when I opened […]

A steam train waits at a station on the edge of the world As people sunbathe on a beach in Portugal The train conductor cuts a lonely figure on the icy platform Some shelter under the yellow and white sun breaks   She looks at the casual mountains above her Whilst others enjoy the the […]

On my return from Carpentras You gave me an unfinished poem Written by an angel I read it as I walked in procession Towards the church

You were destroyed on a warm August afternoon by the bombs of a liberating army Trains no longer cross your wide spans as they once did Only the supports remain to act as reminders of your original purpose The magnificent lions still guard the abutments on both sides of the wide river Their purpose was […]

I saw Simone de Beauvoir’s bottom today But it made no impact on me As I am blind 

We were sitting around a pool which I thought was a good way to spend the day as we needed to recharge our batteries The day was very humid but there was a mass of cloud which was inhibiting the sun Beatrice was reading a book and swimming whilst I was listing a number of […]

When I was fifteen I can remember that a television programme called Aquarius caused a stir when it showed a scene from British Sounds by Jean Luc Godard in which a naked woman both ascends and descends a staircase in rather plain house.   Little was left to the imagination and the woman’s pubic bush […]

I live in the town of Naked Happy People here in Texas If a town was the opposite of its name then this is that town It has one of the highest homicide rates in the state considering its size Only last night two bikers were shot to death not far from the old chemical […]

I am sitting on a lonely Spanish railway station with a female philosopher Her name is Ines Although that is not important Last year this station was the scene of a murder I ask Ines for her thoughts She explains to me that it was a gang murder although she does not go in to […]

You close your leaves at night to protect your pollen But before you sleep I run my fingers lightly over your Pom-Pom-Poms So that I may dream of your perfumes exotic and rare You are said to be vain and quite poisonous But this is a transparent myth Uncertain of its origin Which was lost […]