by Helen Ivory | Mar 27, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
On a bus to LA Our pulse quickens, we get ever closer, as if by a conjurer’s hand, lanes multiply. Cars, RVs, trucks with mirror-silvered cabs power on past. In the distance planes are sucked through sunrays into LAX others spat out into the...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 26, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Mum’s Visit The quilt’s growing across the floor you say as we drive up the A1. The scenery’s your evenings at home: checking the phone for messages, drawing curtains. The silence. Then it’s your dad who ran away to Mansfield with Aunty Mab, whose...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 25, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
When I Return to London It asks me how long I can hold my breath for I tell the city, that I invented drowning That I knew the ocean when it was only limbs / not yet a body That could not swallow Only spit or spray I tell London, that I knew the...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 24, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Five Compression Poems – from special effects one look at her face | her eyes her blue tattoos | she steps onto no man’s land takes a deep breath & touches the hearts of last week’s stripped & searched cosmic-brokers of dreams |...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 23, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
servant of the living word a chill breeze pours over me from the night window, what baptism should have felt like had God existed when I was fully immersed, decades ago, in a Wisconsin lake, a disassembly and then a remembering, a being shaken...
