by Helen Ivory | Oct 17, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Chain Game You play the chain game! But will it protect you against rust? The indicators on the side indicate your time is crunching into a vile twist, so no. Little else is going on where the axle meets the gentle slope of her neck. Still the water...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 16, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Self Portrait With Spiders I stand still and let the spiders spin their webs in all directions. Each curve and angle of my body is an anchor point. Each scar, each detail of my history shapes their work. They sense my breathing, throw their threads into the...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 15, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Their Prints Moths, ghosts, this house is full of them, we live with waves of silence but their life roars enormous through our rooms – hung on walls, stuffed in bookcases, leaking from wounded suitcases tied with string. So easy for them to get lost....
by Helen Ivory | Oct 14, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
the bluebottle died immediately on impact the crunch against the window unmistakable my father stood newspaper in hand the single wrist flick had broken the fly trajectory sent it to a splattering death it had buzzed around the room for hours...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 13, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Moomin’s Dream Moomin bit his tongue a forget-me-not token of excess flourished his last night-terror a dark hallway an echo follows 13 steps an amber glow the sign of 13 Moomin’s ball and chain rhyme dissolves in an acid rain ephemera marking stonework he sees...
