by Helen Ivory | Jun 16, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Letters to a Pizza Company Dear Papa John’s, Let me tell you something I’ve been thinking. I have some pizza concerns. I enjoy the odd slice on Thursdays. Once I’ve put the children to bed, swished out their Disney cups, ironed, and packed their...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 15, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Wider When Standing After Les Murray Lower gravity means less weight and a woman is wider upright. Phonophobia is a natural fear of loudness. You may fear your own voice. Norway is the happiest country in 2017. A whip crack breaks the speed of sound....
by Helen Ivory | Jun 13, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Whales I know not to tell you that one day you’ll be better, so instead I tell you this: We are blue whales, we lie solitary on the ocean floor, looking up at a surface where life is nothing but silhouettes. I tell you I feed on white...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 12, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Sick Leave I tip the whole dark tray night gave me into the trash and tie the sack having woken with a gutful of aching uncertainty and wishing a white sail for sickness. I call for the sun. It comes sliding its hands inside the curtains – almost...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 11, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Coffee shop blues Chalkboard announces all the different brews of scented loose and bagged up tea, of aromatic coffee ground from beans. There are sugared buns and golden tray bakes, soft and sticky comfort behind glass, every kind...