by Helen Ivory | Oct 27, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
After Kirrie We sat-nav under cloud, which might or might not burn off, adder our way up Glen Isla. Through the churchless conundrum of Kirkton of Kingoldrum let’s consider an uncertain saint’s well. Slungback Backwater’s...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 26, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, prizes and awards, Prose & Poetry
A conversation with my daughter about my brother’s suicide She is awake. The moon is bright and the clouds have parted. The trees are painted trees, living a still life. She tells me my brother is in the moon. I’ve bathed her, given her milk and...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 25, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Homeopathy for Spinsters I. About the Weather People ask about the weather but mean other things. All of it, I say, all of it is about to break. My dreams come and go like surrealist paintings; I carried my childhood friend to be displayed in...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 24, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Migration At the club you wear a bold orange shirt and purple pants. I stay in and pop corn. Hot kernels dance in the pot. The moon wears a bright red headband. It too disappears as we will, October hummingbirds. Kenneth Pobo has a...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 22, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
I am the Prevaricator I’m distracted clearing Granny’s house. I don’t see the sprig of barbed wire sprouting with weeds in the garden. It rips my dress from pocket to hem. For weeks the orange-rayon hand-me-down has been curled up on the sofa. It never...
