by Helen Ivory | Feb 11, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Porosis Such a soggy word – like dripping pipes, skin that’s oozing sores or milk pouring from a cracked jug and soaking a new carpet. If you stick an ‘a’ in it’s an oasis, watering you in the desert, but, in bones, it means you have larger than...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 10, 2017 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
David Felix is an English visual poet who lives in Denmark. He comes from a family of artists, magicians and tailors and was raised on oil paint, sleight of hand and Singer sewing machines. At some point during the last century, You can see more of his work...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 9, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
In the house with the lights out One can’t tell by the walls that we are all broken it’s a furious look at lunch a scream behind windows it’s always the onions and I was born there in the house with the lights out where nobody...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 8, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Glee Just as in the song she’d take out the ironing to get at the cupboard to open the dishwasher unload the racks go back to the table to pick up the plates to clear off the crumbs bin the crusts, move the marmite play gogos So the words fall down all...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 7, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The nurseryman and then the government attacked and fire leapt from roof to roof and all the colours bled to black for days the greatest rainstorm sluiced the soot from stumps of home to stain the soil I lost my wife to war our girl to floods our...
