by Helen Ivory | Apr 10, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Place beyond Place She snuck out (under the warm cover of covers) and you were snoring, and you reached to feel the sliding curve of her hip, but thought you missed turned over again (this is where she left her skin)....
by Helen Ivory | Apr 9, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Fred, Half Dead, Beethoven In His Head You can’t talk to Beethoven on a bus stop in Chicago because you’ll just get lost. Lauded as a genius, he can’t give good directions because he’s dead. . Ask Fred about Beethoven about Fred his...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 8, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
“An Elegy on Prosperity & Death: Take 65” For those among us who lived by the rules, Lived frugal lives of pubis-scratching desperation; For those who sustained a zombie-like state for 30 or 40 years, For these few, our lucky few— We...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 7, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
After Watching Dante’s Peak My mother unpacked her bags in the bland guest cabin the Orphanage maintained for guest visits. She still had her Thespian’s sense of drama, wrinkling her nose at that Harsh antiseptic scent hotels cover with Evergreen...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 6, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
* Cold Moon my daughter cries as her water breaks * vastness of stars a cold wind stirs the evergreens * morning sun the scent of Easter chocolates ...
