by Helen Ivory | Jan 31, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Stack We hold our dead like chairs hold chairs further and further off the floor until one holds no more. Tristan Moss lives in York with his partner and two youngish children. He has recently had poems published in London...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 30, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Sister Death Sits on the Back of the Settee It shouldn’t be such a surprise. She knew me better than most people, after all. So cosy. And yes, in the womb I gobbled her up and thought I’d won. But you forget such things. Behind me like a pantomime...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 29, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
I Fall in Love with a Tree Everywhere I Go When I shut my eyes all I see is the sky hung with oranges like a dozen orange golf balls; the tree itself on display like a circus animal. I am where the palm trees rise and fall on the horizon; where...
by Leah Jun Oh | Jan 28, 2022 | Video
The Ballad of Mescal and Pistachio Verse 4. Cards 4 spades slide over the felt table. Bourbon flows to all those still able. Reek of sweat and piss stains the air and now this: Mezcal the widow maker. Pistach the trouble ...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 28, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Morning Conversations Every Gulmohar flower is a vermillion cup of the night’s sweet nectar that drenches the birds’ parched songs. Every branch is a perch for daylight to scout, to rest and to tread lightly without leaving prints. The parrots...
