by Helen Ivory | Jul 7, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Uffizi Florence,Spring 2006 We lounge in the 8.30 am queue watching the marbled living statues for so long, we grow bored and speak instead of how quickly the tourists stride across the piazza, how determined they are to tick off the must-see, must–snap...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 6, 2012 | Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga
Five Haiku Wind wipes out the soil. Tiger sheds its skin—spotless Tiger Lilies fade. ♦ summer fruits abound two bunches of grapes protrude her sassy earrings ♦ pebbles in the pond scarring the face of water a broken mirror ♦ rain rain rain...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Quicklime A tanker is carrying quicklime and hits a lamppost in Ashfield at 19:00. You are watching TV in Ashfield. It is 19:00. Quicklime. Freshman biology slides off the tight- ropes of your synapses like sand. Quicksand. You are no longer in Ashfield....
by Helen Ivory | Jul 4, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
A Poet Rehearses her Rejection of a Novelist’s proposal My dear… friend (keep it impersonal) it would be quite impossible. (Impossible? Never mind, carry on.) I know what you want, what you meant (Know? Presumptuous, but I do know.) But it wouldn’t work....
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Please, tell me of the smell of the moon What does it smell like, she asks, when the moon is full? Do you know first hiss of batter hitting groundnut oil in a shallow pan, I ask, on a morning after a long, dream-ridden sleep? The night when you walked...
