by Helen Ivory | Apr 30, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Call (After Vera Pavlova) Often, the phone in the corner starts crying and I come running to calm it. It’s my mother, again, calling to tell me of the problem with today. She’s the only person in my life, to have studied my ear, as a baby, quiet...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 30, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Yesterday’s news was forgotten by morning as if the world refreshes its memory overnight. But this time the past latches on to the blossom stench along the path by the park where drug dealers meet at night to smoke and I wonder, who hides in...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 29, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Reflection II Reflection in a bowl, slightly quivers. The puzzle pieces have been imperfectly assembled. The faucet drips, no one to hear. The wind has carried off all the leaves like a bride who didn’t want to elope but finally must decide between the sky and...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 28, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Ingredients First of all, there’s the right word, when it finally arrives, and the blank space, the silence the right word fills, and then there’s the pattern the filled-in space is part of — the pattern that needed the right word to happen...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 27, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Self Portrait With Body Works (after Gunther von Hagens ) Photography is not permitted so I make mental snapshots of everything as I mooch around the exhibits and scribble a coded reference in small pencilled letters in the lower left hand corner...
