by Helen Ivory | Oct 13, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Convalescent “She takes down my hair and does it like her own … she has me sit as she does, and I feel the absorption of her personality as I sit.” – Jeanne Foster, model for Gwen John. Only this, today – a letter, a nothing....
by Helen Ivory | Oct 12, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Sometimes you touch my body and awaken it… Sometimes when I talk you listen, stripped of concepts, and become air and flight, and when I am lost to this world you force me to return with soft streams of words. ...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 11, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Punchline A man walks into a bar where the pint’s on the house if he tells a good joke. He’s always the life and soul, and tonight he’s on form. Applause sweeps the bar like a tide till the barman calls time. A woman irons a week in an hour, matches...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 10, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Bread Explore the way it rises from nothing, what this teaches about dignity. On the table of furrowed wood, knives coaxing butter out of sleep. I wonder how my father thinks, crumbs drying over his mouth so he never requires more than what...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 9, 2013 | Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
five tanka bomb threat at the Wal-mart— customers and associates shivering under the autumn sky kisses like bruises and the dark shadow of memory waking at my accustomed hour, a dream of rain still damp on the bark of...
