by Helen Ivory | Mar 22, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Yolanda Moon plays again There is this certain lightness in my chest, bright and airy, the black obsidian anvil’s been tweezed out of me through a small hole punched through my chest, just a few inches next to my heart. The skid marks are still there but the...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 21, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Crue De La Seine 28 Janvier 1910 The river rising through the old quarries, the underground galleries of golden limestone, signs of the flood on our pediments. A bend in the river, and now the water’s too slow, with all these...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 20, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Authority Challenged My dog’s left rear leg shoots out behind her. She looks up, embarrassed, then does her business as necessary. The ring finger of my left hand twitches toward the palm. The dog and I are getting older, but, in physical years,...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 19, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Old Haunts What is it with old haunts – you can’t resist? Try as you might to block it out, you are just biding your time, waiting to strike, to steal the apple from the tree, to peek through the living room window at the woman you once lived...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 18, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Kaddish And Joseph’s hand shall close your eyes. There, beyond the brink and generations are the dead houses filled with eyes closed by the hands of sons first borne into the written wonder of the light who know they will be mourned and memory...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 17, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
…and the heart a broken bell says she’s tired of being dead and what the hell am i supposed to do? can’t have power without money can’t have god without the devil late august sunlight after four days of rain and i kiss her feet when she asks i...
