by Helen Ivory | Feb 23, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
A Necessary Answer: It runs from me on the pavement, concrete stomp after concrete stomp. It hides in common corners, the corner bus stop with its cement bench that smells of other people’s problems, the corner in the library where my...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 22, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Compass the lion in the lute or the lion locked in stone WALLACE STEVENS You gave me all the direction I could take; geographic, plus notes on my performance; that eyeless iron arrow, a servant of purpose that pushed me over undulating dunes...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 21, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Implantations (sycamore) Nobody tells them this, nobody says it’s time to uncurl the fat green clocksprings of their hearts and no one invited them to do it here, the order of it unexplained untaught, the hunt for light the root for damp, how...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 20, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
oracle and she said I had been a pig in rural Ireland one of Shakespeare’s groundlings a Neapolitan song a Polish engine driver a map of Europe an incense bearer in Santiago de Compostela thunder on Helvellyn a stinging nettle and Alexander...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 19, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Rain this afternoon it seems endless, the rain and full of the earth’s sadness generations of tear drops falling, undifferentiated flinging their million, million, million tiny lifetimes to the ground their grainy flickering films the garden...
