by Helen Ivory | Dec 14, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Dairy tale It is the first twin thefts I like least Her calf stolen Her milk stolen Then the theft of her wandering Her daylight stolen Her grazing stolen There is the theft of her name Her Daisy stolen Her Henrietta stolen Not to mention the...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 1, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The physics of hippogriffs Horse-eagled lion – it flies because we wish it. One thing I’ve never understood: if, as science has it, possible worlds are infinite are there more imagineable than we can imagine? In one, hippogriffs turn airy cartwheels,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 27, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Queen of the Meadows Much I do not envy them – the cold houses, the meat-heavy banquets and bread like stone, haphazard medicine, and tolerance of fleas, mice, dogs under the table, and violent men drunk by bedtime. But meadowsweet, gathered...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 25, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Frequency Violet Some have misgivings about Violet. They believe she is on the spectrum; somewhere at the very end, in fact. None can account for it but we’re told she hums inaudibly in the octave of ozone, and lives in an airlock, loiters in restricted zones,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 24, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The dog Sometimes in the early hours the dog’s toenails click on the passage lino. That dog has been gone two decades, nearly: sometimes one of them hears him, sometimes both. Though they never say they both remember the night the boy died:...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 22, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
The Doctor Will See You (As A Piece of Meat, Until You Start Bleeding Everywhere) Measured in syllables, the distance between the kitchen door and table is not enough to avoid the question. The way that silence makes a mess of you if you really bite into...
