by Helen Ivory | Apr 17, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
The Ford There was a moment of driving rain that forced him into a grouse butt for some semblance of shelter, and he huddled there, his woolly hat on under the hood of his waterproof jacket and his gloved hands tucked deep into coat...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 16, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Me, Me, Me Sometimes I feel like a stranger in the town called Me. I enter a bar and all the other me fall silent. The barman is familiar, he reminds me of me when I was younger. “Shandy” I say and he shakes his head without speaking. “It’s funny”...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 15, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Mirror and Garden There is a river running in our walls. Tears erupt through the groan of bubbling plaster. A lunging silence beneath every floor. The architecture is discomfited by this clinking dew. It has no conscious account of itself. (We conspiring...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 14, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Talking about Ladders after Ian Starsmore There is a ladder angled to the roof of the world where blue darkens and you cannot hold the footing in your breath for long. You have a small window above the Valley of Flowers. You feel the odds of...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 13, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Palindrome Existence Sometimes when I feel alone, So I find a clean bus stop to stand by and wait, Perhaps the bus will remind me Of where to go Maybe it’s fate- I contemplate. Maybe it’s fate- Of where to go Perhaps I’ll know if...
