by Helen Ivory | Sep 30, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Write-off Mice ate Steve’s words. Shredding his manuscript into lettered litter they nested in hard-won phrases, and copulated in the ruins. Lauren, sick of rustling and scampering, and cruel with sleep-deprivation, set traps...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 29, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
O’Clock At the edge of the sky, a dirty pink scratches at the permagreen – it isn’t dawn, it isn’t sundown, it’s late in the daylight, later in the season of blame. If life were a featureless plain, the courier would come galloping with news from...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 28, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Ubiquitous Unravelling I Reader, I can’t pretend to know you, but listen intently enough, as though I do in the concrete jungle they call Piccadilly Gardens: a glass of wine later and a pint of Hobgoblin as the conversation...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 27, 2015 | 2015 poetry picks, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
* spasmodic second hand of the clock on the wall of the doctor’s waiting room * walking along the beach my sore feet– the moon wrapped in gauze * another email from Olive Garden– what does she want now?...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 26, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Curlew Calls When I walked the moors Of the South Tyne Valley Not knowing anyone Within 150 miles I hugged the very call Of the curlew. I watched them lift together From fields by the banks Of the river. Once I peered over a drystone wall And saw...
