by Helen Ivory | Feb 7, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The nurseryman and then the government attacked and fire leapt from roof to roof and all the colours bled to black for days the greatest rainstorm sluiced the soot from stumps of home to stain the soil I lost my wife to war our girl to floods our...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 6, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Les Nymphes Aurore We have surrounded the house of the French chef. He is inside skinning tarragon leaves from their stems, boiling vinegar, crushing peppercorns, grinding sea salt, dipping and licking his fat finger in the cream. We stare through...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 5, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Mouth Bow I You place the tip across your mouth hold it still, the shaped beechwood sliver of a new moon’s edge in your hand. Between your fingers the flat oval of bone. A touch, resting. Then – pluck the strung gut. *** It sings in his head. Twang....
by Helen Ivory | Feb 4, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Shelling Peas The afternoon is woven thick with mauve wisteria scent, the buzzing of cicadas. Across the street, hymns blare from the Baptist church loudspeaker. Rock of Ages, Blest for Me Onward Christian Soldiers On Grandmother’s front porch,...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 3, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Secret The words fell from her mouth Like black snakes. Hissss. She has lost them all. The secret! A promise she could not keep. Someone knows. He lies in bed, the room growing dark. It is the last night of their lives. Take me there To the...
by Kate Birch | Feb 1, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Sweatshop The delivery boy, awash with cold air, is rolling The frozen bales. The baster’s thread emerges from the chalk track and dips back in like the dolphin he saw in mid-Atlantic on the passage over. He tacks the suit Keeping things together until the...
