Stuart Miller-Osborne

A history of unknown antidotes High walls under construction Everything is hidden Time corrupts

As one approached the crossroads There was a large commanding hedge Which shielded the town from the River Aps This was odd as the town was named after the river Or so my best friend Regis Mes told me

When I was a child There were many beautiful trees In the rich gardens of my uncle Only the strongest now remain And even they are much reduced

Nice things are happening in the city We are waiting for the night train south Muriel is already in her pyjamas She is shivering On the cold platform And has borrowed My red slippers

I was in a city In a tall hotel My room overlooked The main railway station Before I retired I watched the sisters Thalys Join together before they slept

He was the forth of seven children From Lincoln Nebraska There was nothing remarkable in that He should have passed through his life Like a freight train in a desert town Unnoticed and forgotten by history But it did not work out that way And he is thought to have said Dead people are all […]

I have always been a sucker For deserted railway lines/tracks Whether here in the UK Or in the USA Just before the pandemic Josie and I drove across The Texas Panhandle Just for the experience We both thought it would be vast But were quickly suffocated By the nothingness It was not like anything That […]

Let us go to church you whore cunt Why did you say that Are you in bad mood Betta No more than normal Then why are you so explicit It is not a fucking church and you know it They are good people who love you They love who they think I am I am […]

Saturated with colour On a winter grey day Your heart is warm This brings me humour

Joe Ginny You once said That the best socialist Is a dead socialist Did eye Yes in your essay For the National Front News It did not go down very well Today it would be seen as Love Speech Was your pen at fault or did you believe your words Do you still wish ill […]