by Helen Ivory | Feb 1, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Found KG shoe, upside down, five inch heel in the air, open toe, slingback, a strappy thing, black, buckled three times on one side, turquoise sole, almost clean, just some pressure on the ball, Kurt Geiger, size thirty eight, made in Brazil. I saw...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 31, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Flare I turn my head to see you in the wing mirror as usual. My hand falls from the gear stick, outrider for the electric whirr echo; whiteout. Landmarks slip, drumsticks thrash over the earth’s core, through my skull. My words flounder. This skin is new...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 30, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Some nights Some nights I stand in my garden looking at my tree, and Himself on it smiling at me. Sometimes I think I can take Him off His cross and pitch Him into heaven, then pull my legs in, straight, like a dancer counting sevens, arms thrown to the...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 29, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Cruising Country The heat wave settles on the dashboard. We’re cruising it below the eighties. Beside us are fields of green, vast as boredom uninterrupted. Music from the radio takes the AC to another level of cool. It’s like 7pm dinner without...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 28, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Two Aprons after Arshile Gorky I have my limitations, I can only paint. Each silver tube has its own sound, its own idea of life and how it might be lived. Here’s the yellow of Nan’s Portuguese pinny, I heard its cockcrow from the drawer...
