by Helen Ivory | Mar 12, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
A drunk decaying moth A drunk decaying moth hovers drip-drab through a silvered attic, at home in the folded corners of later gone unspoken. Plaits its nest in the rafters above dishevelled sheets festooned with peacock quills, uncombed, tousled...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 11, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Above the Living Room Fire Everyone had that painting, didn’t they? Well, everyone we knew round here. But not everyone felt as proud of it. Not everyone’s mum looked like her so that there was a nod, an embarrassed look down as a man’s eye...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 10, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Curse The ache’s an old friend, hacking out a week from every month. Sneering cramp clings from neck to knee; madness stalks the grey week’s waiting, masks the world like a lead apron. Feelings stray to incongruous places, ...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 8, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry, Reviews
#UsTogether I remember back in October, listening to some of those many conversations that started up in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein allegations and was surprised to hear male news reporters being genuinely shocked when they asked women...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 7, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
All the Women all the women, all the women of Texas flock towards it (Hilda Sheehan, The Box of Books 1) all the women, all the women are inside me now shouting that this is a fine day for it that they needn’t have brought their brollies, their rain...
