by Helen Ivory | Oct 18, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Ten Gigs I Never Went To Let us assume a curvature of space, that time can be folded like paper. If this were so I could laze and sip coffee in the now, then walk the shortest route between two points, over to myself at eighteen, standing in the rain...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 17, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Ash A car window reflection is at least honest You need a shave But lately the hands haven’t been too fine and it’s been so easy to draw blood and too easy for that to feel okay There is an ash tree here of all places and a cat, limping, shares its surprise...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 16, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Arachne Veiled by lace she sits. Facing September mists, getting fatter by the minute she sits eating mites. Trailing out their insides thinning rapidly into air, visited by the minister she lies. A spinner she weaves, waves of fog curling her...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 15, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Fire Gathering By striking stone like this on stone we flake a fragment of the jagged pain exchanged when angry clouds lash out at hunch-backed hills and growl at sprawling plains. By wrapping breath – soft breath – in straw we draw a single fibre...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 13, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Infinite Septembers E.K. Smith is a new writer whose work has appeared in Misfits’ Miscellany and Linguistic Erosion. She is honored to be making her debut into the...
