by Helen Ivory | Apr 6, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Small Horse Equuleus Pictoris A bent line, not much more: Pictor, the Abbé saw an easel in you, twig-tendril afloat in the Southern sky. Your jaunty stance winks neither canvas nor paint. Three points pink, half-seen from half the earth, your...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 5, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
A Noise Affair The quiet is in here somewhere, surely. The child with the hammer is taking anything it can grab in its tiny hands and smashing it. For his coin in a fountain, a would-be lover gets a loud watery spray. Some words turn the corner of...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 4, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
One… or The Other …how feisty and pugnacious hummingbirds are. — Ohio Department of Natural Resources One: Of hummingbirds, loveliest of the summer, beauty of the free flying within the space of their so little life, I sing. ...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 3, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
A Broken Walker It hasn’t always been or even maybe, the starless crowding mercuric montage of age – teased out debris. Pummeled, spoken for, a kind of courage confused with garbage, excoriated, cursed as cure while being maintained....
by Helen Ivory | Apr 1, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Nocturne by Tea You sit alone on the deck, under the night stars that stir no romantic wonder, just dim night lights that fade with day as everything does. They may as well be lamps studded to the firmament as the ancients believed, or icy little...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 31, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The Woman Who Drank Us Up She was the woman who drank us up, gripped us in her graveyard grasp and drained us, until we were almost uncreated, loose skin and slack bones. She was the woman who smeared our lids with honey until blisters, sugar pink...
