by Helen Ivory | Nov 26, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Platform From where I sat I thought he was wearing red shoes an eccentric choice with all that so correct black and I liked him for it. Not until he stepped down did I see they too were black, ferociously polished; and that blood shade was only the...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 25, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Geometry I feel boxed in triangulated condemned to slow spherical orbit. I could be a square pretending to be a rectangle but the isosceles in me won’t have it. My perpendicular is at odds with your diagonal. Right angled, blindsided, I try to...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 24, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
While the rope creaks The tall red haired girl recollects that she has balanced on the frayed tips of forests the mutant skins of rivers the sawn edges of seas that her precarious symmetry has taken her along the uncertain beam of the world but now she...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 23, 2018 | Word & Image
Mata Hari and the Jellyfish Time bends in the exam hall, drapes skim scuffed parquet floor, the smell of plimsoles and dust lingers. All quiet, except the huff and yawn of an old, old invigilator roaming the aisles like a kraken. Above, carved in oak,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 22, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Grapefruit A yellow globe sliced in half, a hemisphere of pliable skin, a whole serving, a cool sun in a shallow bowl—such is the grapefruit. To one who sits upright eyes half closed, it says: Wake up! The bamboo handle of the serrated spoon is...
