by Helen Ivory | Sep 12, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Blush I love everybody but most of all it’s Miss Hooker, my Sunday School teacher, we’re going to get married one day, don’t ask me how I know, I guess God told me somehow, whispered in my ear when I was asleep, which was good of...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 9, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Derek reads the Daily Mail Derek woke, as he did every day, in an inexpensive guesthouse and to the promise of a long drive. Today – if there were no developments before he left – he was travelling from Morpeth to Plymouth Hoe, a journey of some 400 miles. In...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 8, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The Stars Shone Just for Me Last night I saw a fox and an owl meet by the plum tree stump at the bottom of the garden. One above, and one below, they sat and looked, each at the other. The moon was almost full, the stars were more than merely...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 7, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Your Impossible Eyes No one’s mapped the sun because the telescope’s too short or the questions lack the depth & the numbers shift the sum. It’s not a closed universe, the thread rejects its spool; this locale is hypothetical with instants...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 6, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The First Page Of My Autobiography Call it thin– It’s a start of something smaller It cannot begin So dances across my wallpaper. Jason Visconti is a student enrolled in computer classes. He has been published for...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 5, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Closure there are a dozen doors i never closed. instead, i walked away letting the cool air drift out once solid doors. but with open doors, ghosts follow and at certain angles your shadows fill my days. i wish you wouldn’t but so far from then i cannot find my...
