by Helen Ivory | Oct 18, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
To Be a Fly is to have the might of superboy and beat yourself over and over, soaring hard into the wall, next to a swat-stain from a glutted mosquito. monsters a million times bigger hear you whine from rooms away, spaces large as canyon on a planet...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 17, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Oil Field You’d have thought that we were headed into wilderness, crossing the frost-still marsh through the forest’s early cataract of light. Our quiet coach was clocked by long-horned bulls, ghost-white in clearances and shaded leas. And even when we...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 16, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Trick is to pretend everything doesn’t depend on the delicate stem of your neck, twisting. As if nothing unusual were happening. As if you were born without weight, meant for the water, as if the only way to love and be loved is in the turn of...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 15, 2013 | Reviews
The poems and short prose passages in this collection carry a charge, they’re alive with verbal electricity and a sense of the purpose defined by their authors in “Coda Prefix: Accelerated Urban Highs”,...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 14, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Un- Below the hospital bed there was a hot circle of blood. A forehead on her forehead a palm on her palm the Polish song on the radio next to forgotten babushkas in the room down the hall with the door notice “Visitors after five” or...
