by Helen Ivory | Sep 22, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Growing Like a He spins in wide circles to shake the surging neurons in his head. Before this, I’d said: You’re growing like a weed! He said to stop saying he’s growing like a weed, he said he’s not like a weed at all. He said weeds are bad, unwanted....
by Helen Ivory | Sep 21, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
No Atticus Finch You’re making a box out of a pen, Pandora. I unleash all your suppressed clichés, and twist words uncontrollably. I am you. You am I. What are you playing at, scatterbrain? You’re not extraordinary. You’re another-...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 20, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Outside The Lamb I could say it was innocent: a kiss after a long day, after the pub. I could say it was the gin, but you’d know and I’d know, it’d be a lie – I distract myself with mourning the lost pearl, the one that jumped from its gold post in my ear...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 19, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Credo I believe at the root in breath as a first principle. Breath – the intake, the giving out – is our signature onto the air. Next I believe in the business of seeing and hearing, the processes of light and sound whereby we inhabit the...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 18, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Opposite of the Blues Perhaps magnetic north has shifted or el nino is benevolent now. It may be a solar flare firing rogue positively charged neutrinos but optimism, the natural prey of the English keeps finding toeholds. The evidence is stacking...
