by Helen Ivory | Jun 14, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
House Share Mice make themselves as thin as envelopes to fit under your doors. I am amused, until a mother mouse drags her deformed infant to the middle of the room. Bald, rosy, twitching on the floor. I stop next-door’s cat from hooking it away....
by Helen Ivory | Jun 13, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Untitled for the many ghosts of the Mediterranean, for those that remain unknown I want to take you down to the beach I want to offer you its silence, where you are hanging under the palms there are phantoms, the phantoms are smiling I want to show you the...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 12, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Care Dark red, dark green; his jacket on a chair; the dog barks outside. A white van arrives; its tyres crack across gravel until silent. The whistling… “Give this man his daily bread and give the dog a bone.” Whistling man, closer now; and his strange scent,...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 11, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Speed Indication Device I hurry to town, call Hello! to the one whose hair is pinned in a bun, and sings alto in the Community Choir; wave to toddlers in the park – a shortcut from my school at playtimes when I was allowed to run to the library; glance...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 10, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Confessional a special darkness heavy with incense we wait for the click the screen, the shadow breathing he can see in the dark you might have seen red vestments pause at the hidden door beside you your heavy darkness speaks of loss, twilight, your face...
