by Helen Ivory | Aug 24, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Not Raglan Road The spit, piss and vomit of Bridge Street; Market Street’s chewing-gum tattoos and flaking dog-end scabs, have all too often kissed the soles of her suede boots. The leafs and litter sent flailing over the kerb by motorists...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 23, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Gestation Period These days have become a knife to pare away my skin. Each morning the same routine: the child with her red hair and green eyes watches, swinging legs as I take my bath. She folds back the pages of the book I’m reading so I see nothing...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 22, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
His Heart He offered her his heart as sashimi perfect slices cut with a samurai sword, served with daikon and wasabi. He diced it into a tartare, seasoned with finely minced shallot and cornichons, crowned with a raw egg yolk. He served it hot buttered...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 21, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Mother Tongue I bestow new words upon you slippery syllables like silken drops of milk between your lips. your eyes widen in recognition. word by word, your kingdom expands extends as you take grasp control of the sovereignty of your own...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 20, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Grafters I’ve followed you for two hours. Across windswept beaches and deserted construction sites. Through dark alleyways and smoky late-night cabaret bars. Over highways where cars honk and zip past and across amusement parks burdened...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 19, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Rabbit Must Be Saved The man in the shallow trench leans on one elbow. The white rabbit shines, a helpless little moon in barren midnight. The man wants the rabbit dead; the rabbit cannot die from stares for it does not understand hate. The...
