by Helen Ivory | Jun 18, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Orchids They are guilt-inducing like unwanted pets. Not being completely heartless, I water them every few months over spring and summer. Otherwise, I neglect and starve them. They reduce to thin brown sticks. I wait for them to find their own...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 17, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
My First-Born When my first-born was formed in my womb, she called up to me for seven long weeks but I didn’t listen ’til the tiredness brought me down. Four tests I took, unseeing each pair of parallel lines, ’til I was eating wine gums for...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 16, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Looking in on a Six Year Old It’s that time again. The time to look into the room. The door’s cracked open slightly but I nudge the entrance slightly wider, make width enough for my eyes. The bed is dark. Wallpaper pixies are darker still. A night...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 15, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Flat Pack He lays the pieces out on the rug in Euclidian point order. She spreads the instructions flat among toast crumbs. Stray curls of butter slick the paper down. He fixes A to B to C to D, fourteen-and-three-quarter Allen key revolutions each one...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 14, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Cemetery Death lives on a hillside with a dirty virgin an angel with her face smashed in a baby who is “safe with Jesus” an anchor wrapped in a chain as if Hope would escape if it wasn’t bolted down overhead the woods where you can get lost the...
