by Helen Ivory | Jan 29, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Cruising Country The heat wave settles on the dashboard. We’re cruising it below the eighties. Beside us are fields of green, vast as boredom uninterrupted. Music from the radio takes the AC to another level of cool. It’s like 7pm dinner without...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 28, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Two Aprons after Arshile Gorky I have my limitations, I can only paint. Each silver tube has its own sound, its own idea of life and how it might be lived. Here’s the yellow of Nan’s Portuguese pinny, I heard its cockcrow from the drawer...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 27, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Robert Harding is Dead Turn all the locks, put down the phone, I’ve something to say , about someone you’ve known, Robert Harding is dead* He’s passed away, His fuse has blown. Where were you when you heard? Withdrawing money? Parking...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 26, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Rooks Amber takes her turn and waits. The rooks are a clockwork mechanism made for gathering bones and this landing strip is littered. You’d spat them out with mustard vigour, mouth running dry as hay having no use for them now, you’d...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 25, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The Voice that Thunders [A cut-up poem inspired by, and in honour of, Alan Garner and his work] In order to understand what I had – the landscape I inherited, the beauty things, dreams and patterns of myth – I found myself walking. Every...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 24, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
I Don’t Want My Adidas Hoodie Back in an abandoned carriage at the end of the disused train tracks you pull on the strings of my adidas hoodie drawing me closer to you covering my face closing off the rest of the world so that all i can see is you...
