by Helen Ivory | Dec 3, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Reconstruction Henry Tonks was a surgeon and artist who worked with Harold Gillies the pioneer facial surgeon. The wound’s not the thing, it’s the trust – young faces with clear eyes looking straight at you above slipped jaws, open mouths, loose tongue, swollen lips. ...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 2, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
In Deep Remission I’ve been given permission to be in remission, deep, deep remission — but what does it mean? Does it mean the excision of my cancer condition has come to fruition, my body is clean? Was it careful nutrition or focussed ambition...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 1, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The Macaroons (Still humming) Frances unpacks her shopping, she is thinking of moving things around. Everything is light, she is empty, and opens up a bag of macaroons, eats two of them. How the macaroons fall from her mouth, to her stomach, to...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 30, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Back of the Bus I’m two seats away from the back of the bus. I’m only here because there’s no places at the front. And I’m terrified of hearing anyone say my name. For the last hour of this journey I’ve been pretending to be asleep. I’m gripping...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 29, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
* the same old same old and the paper cut barely scratches the surface * visions of jesus at the midnight station the last train is first * security lights now giving the star treatment to wisteria * above kfc red kites on the fly * ...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 28, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Charon Drives a Yellow Taxi in Gaza the cabbie suddenly thrust in the role of Charon is now burdened with transporting to paradise the soul of a passenger that dies before she can tell him her destination but there is a problem, he doesn’t know...
