by Helen Ivory | Jan 10, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Abracadabra The man on the bus Keeps staring at me from his seat up front Conspicuously turned around No one else notices It’s a vehicle filled with ghosts and stooges All of us forgeries This guy has problems Let him have them I stare out a dirty...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 9, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The Color of Death her skin chips off around the arms like seashells then darkens just above the ankles… a hundred years on the stretcher * I visit after the stroke and hear a knelling— half of her body silent gold dust, the other half a silky...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 8, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Woodlice We overlook them like the early symptoms of a disease, or the daily minutiae we disregard; dirt under our finger nails. Last night, exposed by the outside light, I noticed a gang of woodlice crowding at my back door, flexing their...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 7, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Here Before my eyes haze blunts the air a thin woman purses her lips coffee steams, Desire demands more lifting eyes up a blue sheen exotic figures dancing to the sun’s strum an overflowing glass, Exaltation the coming of what is not,...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 6, 2015 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Daniel Lehan: Former paperboy, choirboy, shop assistant, ice cream seller, chip shop manager, petrol pump attendant, pub caterer, post office worker, theatre usher, cleaner, leaflet distributor,...
