by Helen Ivory | Sep 14, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Below the Feather Cuckoo agrees that the guts of a pig would make fine compost in the garden of Eden. His blatant attempts to deflect the butchering hoe of Adam didn’t work, cuckoo’s hot bowels would be plucked...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 13, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
A Cyborg Observes Oxford Circus Cut the buildings, paste them into files, analyse the dance of pedestrians and vehicles. Delete all zeroes of vacant space between till the scene’s compressed in memory. In real time, pause the...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 12, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
iguana days hanging over grey waves the old yellow dog of a moon, pock- marked & smiling like tomorrow. i go to horizons & check the time i don’t sail the way of charts & stars but follow crests like lizards know...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 11, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Life Writing No one will ever know what happened to the green scarf you wore, the long winter skirts given away in a different city for someone else to wear. At the Indian table others will be drinking tea, no sense that you...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 10, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Illusions The depth of snow that winter! You dug deep, deeper, waiting for life to begin again. To find you I sent lightning, crows, a skein of swans to stretch the sky with their looking. To lie low you grew into evergreens,...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 8, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Emperor The emperor stands at the roadside, grinning He wears a ready smile, And dusty, once black shoes. On his shoulder, the weight of the world, A yellow satchel of homework. He is only fourteen. Sucks at cricket, runs his feet...
