by Helen Ivory | Jan 30, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
I am going to disappear (After César Vallejo) I am going to disappear one evening when the moon has risen, though the sky might not be dark. I have seen this. Looking out of the landing window at 2 a.m. when the moon has moved from left to...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 29, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
invisible wars The years of my parents hurt their lives already lived giving birth to me crush to the point that I am once again dissolved in the darkness before life to the floating almost nonexistent feeling of love between the two of them....
by Helen Ivory | Jan 28, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Oranges Every summer, oranges grew like heartbeats: my father went to the grave of his sister and my mother picked them from the trees. Mornings and nights were peeled from their days and every day seemed a Sunday, a few fruit bathed in cold water...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 27, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Sentry Billy B. Good dope kept Viet Cong on white chargers at bay while on guard duty, seeds for poems about Rimbaud, etc. fell from saddlebags said Billy B. Slight of build, no nose for the specs he wore so always frame poking. His faded...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 26, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Ursus Maritimus Waiting at the junction where I turn left: logical and you turn right: creative, I take down my guard gesture for you to. The glass partition gone, I see you are all nose, the whites of your winter fleece and Northern hair distract me...
