by Helen Ivory | Oct 24, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Migration At the club you wear a bold orange shirt and purple pants. I stay in and pop corn. Hot kernels dance in the pot. The moon wears a bright red headband. It too disappears as we will, October hummingbirds. Kenneth Pobo has a...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 22, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
I am the Prevaricator I’m distracted clearing Granny’s house. I don’t see the sprig of barbed wire sprouting with weeds in the garden. It rips my dress from pocket to hem. For weeks the orange-rayon hand-me-down has been curled up on the sofa. It never...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 21, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Auntie Pam’s Postcard Dear Kylie, Saw this in the motorway services – I know you like pandas. You’d be expecting a card from Scotland, but we’ve only got as far as Doncaster – it’s your Uncle Raymond’s erratic bowel movements again. He...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 20, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Pure Brilliant Ultra A long time ago there was queen and her king who lived in Pure Brilliant Ultra. Their land was made of Ash, Chalk and Wishbone their palace Cool with Jade, Marble and Alabaster. Linnets sang in the Blossom of Almond and Nutmeg...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 18, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Blubberer “I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 17, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Styx A felt-tip pushing back the skin. Spotlights. The high-pitched wailing of a sternal drill. Latex gloves, polyester gauze, brute strength. Then the ribcage lurching wide to surface a cleft-lipped, peach-like underearth. Next the forceps’...
