by Helen Ivory | Jan 15, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Meeting the family, 1937 These are sunny days. They sit arranged around the teacups, teapot centre, cakes to eat in this glade of leaves and glitter; she wants her fairy-friends to show up but her visitor’s here, laughing with her brothers. Her...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 14, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Catbird Dumtella carolinensis Gray pretender samples beats from spring peepers and circus jays. Coy poacher salts its song with crow ratchets and blackbird rasps. Droll plagiarist cribs calls from silken oriole and...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 13, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
How you’ll describe me to your grandchildren I like to make you laugh, but worry that’s not the substance fathers are made of. Tell them I was funny, then, if you like, but don’t be afraid to say that I shouted sometimes. Remember that the times you said I was...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 12, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Vernon Square They’ve posed themselves in favoured spots Around this dour, abortive square That sits beside the King’s Cross Road: An innocence of London drunks. One stammers helplessly in sleep Then coughs and gurks; one makes to sing, His...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 11, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
When Stranded on an Iceberg When stranded on an iceberg in the middle of the ocean, do not squint while the sun screams at you. Remember that somewhere it is raining, that there’s a tempest swirling, a tsunami rising. Even though your clothes are wet, stand up...
