by Helen Ivory | Feb 9, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The Cowry Shell How many palms have clasped the measled back, thumbed their way along the blue-grey watermark to negotiate three sacks of corn or a new bride? Little womb of the sea, it births an osseous mouth all tucked and crimped in with hints of baby...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 8, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The Collie I Never Had I wanted to adopt a collie and I didn’t copy that from that from anywhere I swear my mother always said if we got a dog it would have to be a collie which never happened because of all the shedding we predicted we got a shih...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 7, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Vettriano Life I was truly alone like any romantic pigeon-holed into an edgy corner happy hour oysters rare rib-eye steak lush red wine I danced to jazz he tumbled whiskey with cut glass lustre I followed him up to this cities natural planetarium saw the curve of the...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 6, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
“It’s all about your embouchure” My Dad led our brass band on the euphonium; Mum did percussion from the kitchen, on the saucepans with the odd kebab skewer. Me and our Mark were tubas; Great Auntie Flo (when she had her teeth in) was flugelhorn. Our...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 5, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Stink Spirit You have found a way to repress it: That human waste dumped in you, Stewing in its own juice. The dull pain Of being almost grounded — A slowed mutant, inflamed. A stranger unclogs your slurry guts Of car parts, bicycles, festering...
