by Helen Ivory | Oct 24, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Before She Went She rests in music all day long Jazz, Opera, Nationalist folk, The closest thing to silence I can find here. If she raised her head, she would see Tesco, a pub and the steelworks, the new...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 23, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Stroke Forgetful, in a stroke of genius, you set the dictionary on a shelf in the fridge where it lay all night in dark wordlessness: rosetta of crystal, coomb of roots, the house of language cooling like a hive. What were you thinking but this...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 22, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Chambers of Horror The good the bad and the ugly I’m imagining a statue of a man in anguish standing in a public square; but I haven’t yet made up the proper patriotic words to chisel on its plinth to say why it commemorates the body as an instrument for...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 21, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Protagonist One day I will wake up and realize just what kind of story I’m in. My words will finally carry weight. I will know how to deal with the villains, real, flesh, natural, and imagined. I will one day know how best to be this human being...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 20, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
In Campagna (Tor Vergata, Saturday 8 am) Timetables abated till Monday morning, exegeses and formulae on hold, the Faculty celebrates as best it knows its air-conditioning. Via vents, flues, windows which someone forgot to close, thrums a rhapsody...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 19, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
1 Here is the subversive heart: Through which rebel blood rolls in secret passages Dark is the meat, opaque and shiny as a horse’s eye Bones fine and curved as tusks steeple a cage for it, Under sediment of the water of you Here are the nobs, the joints,...
