by Helen Ivory | Oct 21, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Portrait of the late Mrs Partridge I inhabit the rough drawings of numberless wild places which camouflage my handsome brindle rougey linen plumage and faintly jewelled russet feather boa My chestnut hair is blown upwards like whirring flames...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 20, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
1955, perhaps? Late winter afternoon. A London Park. The distant trees ghostly on the far bank of the bleak lake. Four and seven, say, in camel coats with beaver collars, feeding the ducks. I am holding a bag of bread standing beside my sister as...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 19, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Party He slips into the house, puts his pack of beer on the kitchen table, takes a can and walks from room to room, staying a while in the back room. The IKEA furniture’s pushed against the walls exposing a floor of wooden panels. He...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 18, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Ribcage Is Asked By Its Latest Lover How It Gets Around You try your best to remain upright when in a new bedroom, but it slows you down. Your latest lover gives you permission to be yourself, so you skitter instead of hop, your tips click and clack...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 17, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Chain Game You play the chain game! But will it protect you against rust? The indicators on the side indicate your time is crunching into a vile twist, so no. Little else is going on where the axle meets the gentle slope of her neck. Still the water...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 16, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Self Portrait With Spiders I stand still and let the spiders spin their webs in all directions. Each curve and angle of my body is an anchor point. Each scar, each detail of my history shapes their work. They sense my breathing, throw their threads into the...
