Stuart Miller-Osborne

Lucy and I are in Italy again We have rented a coastal villa With the most delicious of views There are two beds in the white room But we only use one as it faces the window Turns were suggested but we decided to share It is a most beautiful greeting late of dreams Nely

I spend much of my time Walking ancient paths I visit forgotten churches In bleak and obscure fields And listen to the music of the dead

I have dedicated my recent life In protection of our glorious past There are those who have cause to spoil They lack respect and will be punished I will jig on their septic remains

I slipped in my anti depressants today The one that showed my dark areolas I wore it with my brown silk pants My wife is named Morag Morag is a colourist from Scotland

I slipped in my anti depressants today The one that showed my dark areolas I wore it with my kangaroo silk pants My father was a colourist from Scotland

A stag of migrant birds Crossed the early sky You were unaware As you were dreaming Léopoldine

A few years ago I had a panic attack In a lift We were five floors up When it began to shudder Since then I have avoided lifts Either I do not travel Or take the stairs This makes life more difficult But at least I stay calm This is almost absurd in its performance […]

It travels everywhere with me We share everything It sees what I see I share all my secrets With this camera It is almost as if we are married

I caught you spying on me Ben Davis As I lay in my morning bath This pleased Leonie As you now knew That I was a natural blonde Erotic Poems of Summer

The railway slices one of our most famous cornfields in half vandalism yes but I do enjoy watching the city trains pass on warm summer evenings