by Helen Ivory | Mar 30, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Plotting for Kisses The girl from up the stairs is plotting for kisses. While making her lips taste of tea leaves before painting them, she collects the stormy weather to darken her light eyes with. The girl leans back and turns her hand...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 29, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
9H Pencil In the first turn of the stubby little pencil sharpener is a reminder for next door To keep an eye out for a missing cat and can they water the tomato plants A second turn and the paper thin shaving rolls away A third turn and there’s a...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 28, 2013 | Poetry as a Lifeline
The Collar It was dark and he pointed at the street. ‘There is frozen?’, the guy said in an accent. Hungarian or something. I said yes, the street was probably frozen. ‘But I cannot see ice’ he said, ‘How can you know there...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 27, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Left If this flat were the one and the chain held and if we fell for ‘String’ by Farrow & Ball – or ‘Cat’s Paw’, ‘Joa’s White’ or whatever it’s called – would we strip the ceiling rose and walls, sweep up dead scraps in a cloud of distemper,...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 26, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Meetings In memoriam Kurt Waldheim* Small world, what, Excellency? We shall not shake hands. I do not care how you manage to live with the murder of children among the conquered women and spoilt vineyards and olivegroves back in the...
