by Helen Ivory | Jan 15, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
The Butter Paper My mother’s ghost haunts the creases of the butter paper like a child trick-or-treating in a greasy paper sheet She would have scraped and scraped it with her bone-handled knife blade whetted to tuilerie by years of use then...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 14, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
The woman with puppet hands No one ever talks of the last moments of those accused of witchery. Who knows how many went mad or Threw themselves into the river beforehand, As a means of defiance. For what would await you? Mouths open in faces you...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 13, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Jewels During a journey of five hours as the bus powered across, Nevada appeared as a stolen stone to be polished and recut. So I stretched the skin of its sky across a scored white page, wrote the joshua trees in rows to pull out the sun in...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 12, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The Thin Woman There has always been another woman inside me, a small one who wears this flesh of mine like a coat, hiding her pure self in the folds of my flesh, the plenitude of thighs, ripeness of belly. Now her murmurs grow louder. The house is...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 11, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Des bons mots All things considered takes ages. If you could have it all would you leave it where it is? The path of righteousness leads to the corridor of uncertainty. Absence makes the heart look elsewhere. A problem shared is a problem still. Do things by...
