by Helen Ivory | Mar 28, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
In this room You walk in here (if you can walk) and see the faces turning eyes sliding over yours slipping away assessments made a future told in indifferent glances. You walk in here and lose your place. Time scurries under beds hides in corners...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 27, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Sixth Grade My first man teacher, first research paper. I used an encyclopedia. “Spain.” He blamed me for the 500% increase in juvenile crime— I said I’d rather study American history than Roman. He yelled because we couldn’t name the Emperor...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 26, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
fourth step “made a fearless and searching moral inventory of ourselves” my first fourth step on the porch of the halfway house out in the country 40 men for four months smoking maybe a million cigarettes I sat with Doug notebook in hand he would...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 25, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Ear Worm (2018 ABC) What keeps me awake at night: tumble-drying in the warm utility of the mind, rotating with the work shirts and her unforgiving thongs is not the crises of the world: fat thumb of the despot’s hand above the small red...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 24, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Tunnel The road runs below the river lengthwise, and it’s hard to get your head around as you drive along sub-aqua, going with the flow. No-one jumps when a frog flops onto the bonnet. Two ducks take the exit for Toledo; nobody gets into a flap....
