by Helen Ivory | Jan 25, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Orbit Look up on a clear night, you’ll see me glint by. I’ll try to wave assuming I’m not doing space things. They’ve got me growing weed under lamps; I have to roll it generously and put on funny hats. There are box sets but not what you’d hope:...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 24, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Itinerant Singer ‘Two’ Four walls contain acquaintances: Table and chairs – Immensely relevant. As well, the wine cup, The ticking clock, and Neatly folded paper-money To nurse me through An oncoming second life. Here, in...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 23, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Demdike A boy gnew me by a stonepit. He steemed in th sun stone-waking, lighting trees like wicks; his eyes were sofd as ash, and cities hymned and chymneyed in the atlas of his sex. I tricked in him, – unclocked all tocks, all ticks; a debt that ploppd...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 22, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The pencil tree I want a pencil tree, its black heart writing words of wind and rain, winter stillness and summer flourish. I want a pencil tree, but not that one. That one has the pimples of illness all over its grey hide, ready to burst and...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 21, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
A Glory Soft headed, out there through the mist, the sun nothing but a sense of light. No time, no place. The vapour carries it all. It’s enough. Given the time gracefully, the vision holds clear through to the centre of the earth:...
