by Helen Ivory | Aug 25, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Aspens These trees shimmer in no breeze— the moon’s a wild rabbit above us— no breeze or one so slight we don’t feel it— mad ghost breathing— bark curled scrolling tops of columns, pedestals: these are the reasons nights are in love and we are in...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 24, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Erica bloated by x-counts of cortisone she offered her excuses for the breath-loss at the circular staircase (going up) in the midst of the pause Tablada’s haikus and the “Rac… Rac… Rac…” jumped into the present in they came and...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 23, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Answers A lone slightly-crushed blue M&M rests on the classroom’s grey carpet between rows of wooden chairs. A student writes with her right hand while inserting two fingers of her left into her mouth, withdrawing pink gum. Cheeks rest on...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 22, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Small Waters You’ll find me in small waters, with my eggs like eyes and eyes like two gold watches, handless as my green and almost body: coalesced by a will of weeds. It’s a liminal life, knowing just enough of one and the other: with my long...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 21, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
A Poem about Frost Swan resting on an empty lake: white but for the lake. Blue but for the swan. Winter will set in from the leftmost corner of the lake. Eagle swan. I can no longer tell bird from bird. When winter sets in, the swan will be...
