by Helen Ivory | Sep 5, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Misjudging Poltergeists Washing line fandango 11:54am clothes bashing, then catching, wetting flowers in aftermaths of rage let’s blame this stealth of silver-coloured wind bringer of war, life, self-merriment invisible in its lone...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 4, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Ballad for Botox Seventeen is a dream; fat with attitude and a bit of cunning, he wears it in age clients knows him as: twenty-one. Usually, they’re over fifty-five, divorced, widowed, all married to loneliness and means. Ms....
by Helen Ivory | Sep 3, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Clown and gold She ate lemons to prove a point. The blast of pennies dragged her forward. To keep fish in the sink without a heart. The weight of light outshined itself. Forward to the creases under the eyes: sardine, trout, clown and gold. ...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 2, 2015 | 2015 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Double Take It was my birthday. In time-honoured wont I took the bus to the Rubicon for tea and cake with Uncle Pete, Master of Treats and Ceremonies. The Tea Room chinked and tinkled, snug with radio hum and finger crooked genteel...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 1, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The Quail Sophia immerses the podgy quail into a pot of hot water and then starts plucking them. Tufts of brown feathers blanket the water. She then cuts their heads off with the kitchen scissors. ‘It’s Rex that caught them out in the...
