by Helen Ivory | Dec 8, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
The Room Laughed The room laughed. “I don’t know why people laugh” He said. “The man who used to sit in the middle there Well he hung himself last week. This is a serious disease. I don’t know why people laugh” Our eyes raise The roof...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 7, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
There are changes There are changes I would like to make and there are those that are made for me pay attention to your heart-beat which appears to happen by itself – little breath-bows to an unknown somehow recognized musician...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 6, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Bad Biography His home town had glory holes poked through its park’s bog walls. Outside, a granny in a tartan coat rummaged bins and fed club-footed pigeons for hours. Old fridges and sofas loitered the streets. Newsagents sold single fags to...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 4, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
No more ordinary mornings There are no more ordinary mornings when Greenland comes pouring through your letterbox and the chickens have stopped giving milk, when you don’t have to go to the sea anymore as the sea is now coming to you. There are no...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 3, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Realm From an upstairs window here at home, the double line of ragged hills looks flat as file dividers in slightly different tones of blue. The thrill of finding a wide realm between them! Old farms with undead yellow elms, immense bronze globes...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 2, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
About Breath we’re together round a small screen like I remember when you were young round the hearth but there’s no flame and the doctor is pointing with a red pen at a cavity between your lungs talking about lymphocytes which have formed...
