by Helen Ivory | Feb 20, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
My Favourite Coat It was never mine — a seventies Afghan, with its heavy red and yellow stitching and tendrils of fleece I yearned to twist — if I could only twirl into the girl whose coat it was — freed from school to loiter outside the tube on...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 19, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
What the Queen Knows Sometimes, I talk as if throwing darts at a board, hoping some will hit target and score the prize of a response from you. Other times, I wrap myself in your silence, its softness, its warmth, a blanket sheltering me in...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 18, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Missing Silverware Phantoms annoy my memory palace Late at night into early morning light, Streeling through the halls like banshee, they sing Dissonantly and claim to be me Or my siblings or old friends and lovers, Even to aping our gestures, taking Our...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 17, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Bibi, are you living? When the snoring stopped as you perched by the fire with loving impudence you asked: Bibi, are you living? You listened awestruck to your Scheherazade, her convoluted ancestral tales, repeatedly embellished tales of Salim and...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 16, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
One Under at St Paul’s Central westbound, strangely grabbed from standing sleep by scream of brakes which didn’t stop when we did but migrated into mouths of those who saw him under. Someone sighed. Some other knelt and looked. How cold the pillow...
