by Helen Ivory | Mar 22, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Trick or treat Throw the dice as to Whether it’s wet leaves or dog shit It all looks in the same under The orange lights You see the squared hedge first The smooth slate path and Treated black metal spikes on the front railing Doing a good job of keeping...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 21, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
How It Works What I throw out into the world I gather first as checkerboards of sunlight scribbled on my arms. I gather them as nourishment like a man drinking from a well he’s crawled miles to reach. What I throw out into the world has pooled and...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 20, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Fear Julian knows the secret to fear. It’s legs. He’s secretly smug about figuring this out even though he’s only seven. ‘More people are scared of dogs than other people. More people are scared of bees and wasps than dogs and people are even more...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 19, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The Bookcase The bookcase has been replaced with another bookcase The new thing is made in Sweden and assembled in the wet dreams of code breakers and psychiatrists I try all the bits are there I thumb tiny pieces of metal into crude wooden holes...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 18, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Celebrity Lips part and we see the dark whole of your mouth, empty and ivory framed. Vacant-sign eyes , cogs lie static behind your sugar skull. Yet we try like children on a pier, to hook a prize with our claws. Stripping flesh from your...
