by Helen Ivory | Aug 31, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Sunset without sight My senses change as the planet turns away from light. I close my eyes. The space between my ears goes numb. My wrist bones disengage, reach out to fingers fanned like a sea bird’s wing. A rhythm dances in my forehead. Every breath lifts...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 29, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Piano One time you bought a baby grand, perhaps imagining someone in the family developing culture, as a petri dish grows mould. I wandered into the formal room, back of the house, for Christmas and best. Sat at the beautiful piano. Couldn’t...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 28, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Mundesley I stand on one of the groynes as if posing for an album cover behind me in the cold arcade coins drop into penny falls it is December and everyone is losing because whatever they win is never something they want they leave with hands...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 27, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Seeing in Colour Canvasses rotting behind the shed An ochre sky, the sharp stink of linseed on a rag The temper of blood on white tiles A coffin glossed with slick tints of autumn leaves in oils Art is not what you see but what you make others see. Where...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 26, 2017 | 2017 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Starve yourself I sit on my bed eating leftover soup from microwaved tupperware to stave off a dizzy spell. The plastic is discoloured from re-heating baked beans. I use a teaspoon so it takes longer, takes more mouthfuls. It’s a trick I learned....
by Helen Ivory | Aug 25, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Fred Mr Davis kept tropical fish and a tidy garden front and back. It’s as good as fertilizer that he said, throwing his urine from a bucket on the lawn. He rolled grizzled Rizlas with the fingers of one hand. Showed me places on a map where he...
