by Helen Ivory | Oct 11, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Thinking of Tesla on the District Line Tesla, on the District line there’s a glimpse of lights, a whole field of lights in darkness. I think of you in Colorado Springs, planting bright bulbs to transfigure the slopes. Sparks leapt and...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 10, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Heat In these heat days when the sun displays a fiery godhead and ordains the liquefaction of Tarmac and the deadest of nights bring a crackle of crickets and all the bedrooms burn in airless struggle to turn the pillow then...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 9, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Midnight Illness Home is only ever found in glimpses, the night-fragrance of a lover’s shoulder, the warm throb of the pulse beneath the skin of the throat, the green scent of trees captured in the pages of the right kind of book. You feel...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 8, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Darkling It grew late and started to darkle. I know, I know but I’m feeling archaic, OK? If I want to go all poetic, I will. If I want to go back to the fifteenth century that’s my call, alright? If you don’t like it I suggest you get out...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 7, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
* Tuberose dying glass skyscraper in the sun * White denim splattered paint balloons on tarmac * Monsoon gust a steel tunnel under the city * Larkspur trill a morning in July viola lessons ...
