by Helen Ivory | Feb 10, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Medea My heart is breaking, so I’m setting up my new Wonder Oven. The waft of toxicity as I run it on empty for ten minutes is a welcome distraction. Do you know what a Wonder Oven is? Let me tell you. A Wonder Oven is so much more than just an...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 9, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
This Sea Is Ours We enter in darkness. Naked feet rush over cold pebbles, phone-torches light our pathway to the sea. We shed layers of hoodies, pyjamas, socks and trainers. Seafoam slashes cold against our knees. We swim further into night,...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 8, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
You Know What 9am Feels Like, Right? Like, If Your Watch & All Clocks—Suddenly Worldwide—Disappeared, You’d Still Know What 9am Feels Like, Right? The first wristwatch was first worn in 1810, despite what old turn-it-up Flintstones episodes...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 7, 2025 | Featured, Flash Fiction
Flower tongue Daffodils hate being shoved in corners. When forced they emit a peculiar scent, part butter, part ulcer. I wear yellow shoes because I don’t like corners either but I am frequently left in them, and so I exude a peculiar smell. You...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 6, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Dusk Was Yesterday Alone, I drive along the midnight, winter road. My left hand at the 12 o’clock position of the steering wheel. And I coast. I let out the day’s long breath, which started out today as a sigh. Somewhere off in the distance,...