by Helen Ivory | Jan 30, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Cruel Laughter Tortoise-shell glasses framed Marc’s lively, brown eyes. He worked in Foyles, a leading London bookshop. With his typically huge smile, he said: “A workmate has written three novels. He’s forty-five and...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 29, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Rhine Swim When you slip into the river and float downstream, first swim a little, then tread water to keep your head in the air, then tip it back and kick your legs up to the surface. With your ears underwater, the world goes silent, and if you close...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 28, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
henry john lintott I, I, I, the millennium’s baby, That stinking beauty who crunches down hearts like candy I laugh with each push burn of knuckles and open my throat to grey sky Because that is all I deserve A song a spell a draught for sleep a...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 27, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Recovery room. My words dissolve in the fog of my mask. I peer at faces through a spy hole lens, try to join the fragments. They slip through my brain like egg-white through fingers. Strangers call my name, speak through seashells. The clock...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 26, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Glossop Ward In the hospital bed my father sagged and bulged in all the wrong places. He started taking his meds again, said the nebuliser smelled like French bakeries so I emptied Waitrose of its pastries. As he grappled for control, the same old...
