by Helen Ivory | Jun 6, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
An Escape In the back room’s desiccated atmosphere, the spiders stole one another’s shoes and sang their clever songs with their elbows folded. The shelf of hats stood to stiff attention, three coal black and a female in splendid blue that came...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 5, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Her Future Husband Appears to Her in the Shape of a Hawk after Victoria Brookland She never knows by which door he enters, but suddenly he is inside her. Her red underdress of hoops and holes stands stiff as a lightning pole. In her ribs, the...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 4, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
No Easy Answer Raymond Chandler’s having a drink in his LA apartment. Light borrowed from an Edward Hopper painting; near-harsh reading lamp beacons on his desk where a trilby makes a salute to half-eaten shadows. Sitting on a stiff-backed chair...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 3, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Charity shop crawl I start in Scope, find my first Kiss T-shirt from the Lick it Up tour, the old black now charcoal grey, a seven inch tongue lost to too much Persil. In Shelter, I find my leather jacket, purchased from an alternative clothing...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 2, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Butterfly Cage when I was pregnant, all of my dreams were about snakes. as much as I tried to dream only about baby kittens, baby puppies human babies, my nights would be filled with twisting pythons gathered in knots inside me, their slick skin...
