by Helen Ivory | Sep 21, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
A galaxy of poets I’d always wondered what we were when we got together, normally alone, happily fighting the night, unobserved except for lovers and the moon, on a mountainside or shit job, a lock in, holding cell or college bar, too...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 20, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Die is Cast
I held on to my mum’s hand as we stumbled down the stairs, following two rolling dice which were tracing a silvery arc in the air. My father was screaming his last gasp behind us, with a knife buried deep in his chest. My mum’s...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 19, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The House’s Role The house stays put. It has its reasons referred to as people for my purposes. Separated from the outside though not thought particularly isolated – the house considers what the world has to offer other than itself but respectfully...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 18, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Turanj, September 1995 a river crossing as over the Styx time hangs here heavy with loss suffocating houses pocked profane eviscerated guts rotting whitely on the street the private bared for anyone to see if anyone were there to see) above all a depth...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 17, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The door sings its welcome it’s the kind of door that trickles honey in the light and says come in twice at least leave your coat in the hall the kettle’s singing sit yourself down here at the window in the garden oak a blackbird warbles...
