by Helen Ivory | Mar 2, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Chorus Girl In the night she comes, knocking at the glass, Poe-ish, in her petrol sheen, midnight negligée, brazen eye, a voyeur, between the curtains. Blackbird, aren’t you supposed to sing at this time of night? Not these yellow beaked seductions Morse...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 1, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
So That French Guy walks in a Bar in Oslo That year, I decided to stay in Stavanger on the West Coast of Norway, as I had heard a lot of good things about the City –especially from Isioma Daniel, the journalist . And, let’s face it: Norway is...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 28, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Fool Moon The moon, too, yearns to see beyond clouds, we look for silver on prussian she looks for blue and green, both cursing the intervening veils and blankets of cloud. On cloudless nights, out of the sea she rises orange, shrinking, paling to...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 27, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
From Autism This Failure to understand abstract concepts. Love should teach me how to teach you. I can’t find a point of entry into your world, locked rooms of loud lights, bright sounds that hurt and excite at the same mind-rocking pace. Nuances...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 26, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Overwhelming Catastrophic Dread Did I shut the door? Did I shut the door? I am the gatekeeper, shaman, celebrant, I avert apocalypse fifty times a day. Did I shut the door? Rubber-gloved soothsayer, I divine strange dooms in the pattern of dogs’...
