by Helen Ivory | May 25, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Hipster builder On the post-work bus you chat with colleagues, a counterpoint to their crew-cuts, acne, Adidas trackies, your paint-flecked beanie hiding contemporary coiffure from the vicissitudes of cement dust, its wool displaying that authentic feel...
by Helen Ivory | May 24, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The South Starts Here with houses, shacks, salons, billboards piles of tyres, an airport hangar, a Methodist church, a propane tank, voids, that ramshackle Whispering Pines, its shuttered shadow; always something else burning, forty three fires,...
by Helen Ivory | May 23, 2015 | 2015 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Black Holes & Other Inconsistencies after Edgar Martins There’s a thin blue line sprayed vertically on the wall and a film of grey dust on the floor. A square shadow of shade turns sand a darker yellow, and there’s a distant light in the...
by Helen Ivory | May 21, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
After midnight I wonder, if my fridge is a cat: it purrs, it is indifferent unless food offered, its little eyes light up in the night, then decide it is time I went to sleep. John Alwyine-Mosley is active in various poetry...
by Helen Ivory | May 20, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Irregular Apocalypse There is no news on the TV. The Apocalypse has happened; it has been as bad as it can be so nobody’s watching. But there is still TV. Re-runs of old cop shows in the wrong order with no continuity announcements. There is no...
by Helen Ivory | May 19, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Cell Sunlight leans on half closed curtains, slants across a table, laid last night for breakfast. A knife-blade’s twinkling snatches at his eye. He steps into the empty room. The warmth it’s gathered in the hours since dawn has made a tiny increase in...
