by Helen Ivory | Feb 6, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Just A Mountain I’m sitting on the edge of a volcano and I have this weird uneasy feeling, like I’m sitting on the edge of a volcano. I wouldn’t say it’s early, the sky’s crawling with stars and I’m still looking for something to do with all these...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 5, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Bertie “Hiya Bertie, how’ya doin today?” I ask, knowing the answer. “Terrible, jus’ terrible.” Comes the usual reply. “Aw no, what’s up?” a pointless question. “It’s me back.” Of course it is. He’s 94, with chronic osteoarthritis. “Is it still hurting?”...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 4, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Mapping Dictyna arundinacea your web in the tips of gorse maps the structure of memory anchored firmly by first actions then massed with time to complex connectivity now...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 3, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Will the last person to leave… please leave empty cans piled into pyramids in each corner. Some of these may fall like civilisations, others may not. Food waste and packaging will be neatly bagged. These bags will fill each cupboard to indigestion...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 2, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
She in My Head As good as any I’ve ever been A no stop winder of the thread, wender of the maze. a May zing. One who doubles , singles turns downsides up insides Out. The everybody look-no-hands-no-holds-barred girl The no handlebars handle...
