by Helen Ivory | Jun 5, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
The Monster London Fatberg Hi, Berg here. Call me Fats. I slug-slither with the rats; creep-crawl, clog up the tunnel. City-cloy the disposables; white, non-perishable, two-hundred and fifty metres, – consistency unmentionable....
by Helen Ivory | Jun 4, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Always Yours like red paint to the old barn closer to you I am as stars to night and ivy to rock closer to you i am when or where I’m forever there Gregg Dotoli studied English at Seton Hall University and enjoys living...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 3, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Today the clouds are a mountain range across the sky close to me a plum tree with cloven trunk tortuous, the last tree to blossom your white flowers are dancing in defiance the black clouds spit their rain ever harder but to us,...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 2, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
On The Road To Samaria In these shoes, I negotiate life in the third person; toes swathed in top quality calfskin, safe from random shit and shards, where neither grass nor paved path can sully these soft arches and soles. I wear these suits; an...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 1, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
A photo of Melissa The mouth is wide on the face and the head tilted to one side with a question. Behind her there’s nothing but shrubbery. She could be in a field somewhere but I know better: This photo set on my table is lying to people, because it was...
