by Helen Ivory | Jul 6, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Because you too have lost the one you loved You’ve grown a beard since last we met in the underpass, John: an unruly grief-beard, ragged with rage. It looks to me like a sign. Washed and neatly skirted as I am, I long for it to be mine. It might just as well be...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2017 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Molasses & Snow In spite of the art class On Desecration I cannot vandalize but cut out a copied inscription A une ex-Canadienne to paste above my mother’s face & shoulders which rest on a plinth of text highlighted yellow|Such a surprise...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 4, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Sense of Feel Some feel the deep oceans. Some feel the blackbird pecking at winter’s crusted seeds. Some feel cracking ice in spring thaw. Others sense the universe expanding in the bourbon dark, fragmented galaxies growing further and further apart...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Small Gods Impossibly gifted and unforgivable they are the gods we made in our need grown sad and old. Lonely among the living they worship us, bring heartbreaking offerings that cost them everything we cannot use. Here, they say, here are heaven...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 2, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Lost Causes So long ago, that newsflash, a crash at Lockerbie. Barely sixty miles from where I worked Were we on take; were they opening theatres? Switchboard were laconic; the protective joke. I can still hear the voice- tight and terse The flat chill of the...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 1, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Watson on Dartmoor I first saw it in sun, edged with yellow like the dragged note of a violin: and yet, and yet something just out of tune like the faintest rot beneath the sweetness. It’s not of the earth, the moor. You drive as though ascending...
