by Helen Ivory | Sep 1, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Mirsky’s Flight Mirsky called his wife from a pay phone at the airport. He hadn’t used one in years and was surprised at the fifty cents it cost. “Hell”, he thought, “It seems like yesterday they went to a dime.” At his age, (fifty-two) yesterday...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 31, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Hey There Dali I can hear it ticking softly between sheets that still smell of our skin; winding time weaving us together. This morning I forgot to take my watch from under your pillow. Last night you kissed me for the first time, and I am giddy,...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 30, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
this is not disorder there is no gap just twists that stick in your throat reinvent themselves in tortured itch non-sleep patterns drowning in shallow water this is how it rolls stationary shark frenzied feeding rogue...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 29, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Images In the evening we went to the lake to collect our images. There were fish and trees, boulders and algae. The algae spread like a stomach of the lake. The boatman poked sticks in its stomach and came up with leaves which would turn food for...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 28, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Taming the Tiger On days like this I imagine he watches from a bench in the park. Having eaten his sandwiches and fed the birds he spends the rest of the hour observing the comings and goings and when he yawns it is a great yawn of possibility and all...
