by Helen Ivory | Mar 23, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Savings All this the hedgerow saves from the underworld: a wire of blood-drops necklace of blisters and the dots of crabs pressed on the sky in yellow braille or stashed under leafmould the blackbird’s counting-book the odd dark sloe dried like a raisin...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 22, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Shenanigans I play the fox; what else do you expect in this moony garden? You stand, alone at the window, tall, white as down, staring out as if I was will-o’-the-wisp, a green-eyed seducer versed with pulpit words. Nightly I come to you with a...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 21, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Grass Verge Near Soissons Under wheels, leaves flash a fallen sunlight in the lanes. Cold farms are hung with hoarfrost and stiff sheets. We stop for water by an orchard, pinch two pears from over the ditch. Their skins are bronze, a little...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 20, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Amniocentesis As the receptionist studies our insurance details, the gynaecologist appears from behind a curtain; needle long and thick. I stroke your arm. The syringe angles into the sponge of womb, pierces the wet image, feet webbed in shadow. She...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 19, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Before today, the last open smile in Russia was in a Yevtushenko Poem In Russia, a smile is like an invitation, for murder, or worse. Waiting for the bus with one hand in pocket, like some mobster; Like the men on the stairs of the hospital in The...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 18, 2015 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Beth Phillips is an emerging writer who dabbles in documentary, illustration, poetry and short prose. Keen to expose her work to a hungry audience she explores and examines themes of older age, decay and the beauty within these. Twitter: Beth...
