by Helen Ivory | Feb 5, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
* Laughter, beer and smoke Once again no one knows Today is my birthday * * * On a rock in the lake A gull is drowsing A cold dawn * * * The black bay Is a mirror for the Moon Snowy tears falling down *** Your eyes Are the ocean Too bad I...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 4, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Prem. Like that weird March morning in January, the birds deceived, deceiving us in turn, roots woken and stirred to thirst, you too arrived early, to a world unsure if this was sleep or dream, fitful in streams of silver light, too cold and thin to...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 3, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
As though they’re Values I’m hearing a single-prop plane passing overhead, as the morning progresses towards both nine and work. I am not claimed by the need to travel to work: I can sit in my study, settle down with poem and pen, and revise as...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 2, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
a white heron once staggered colette looks god damn fabulous on the toilet the way she works that seat its more like watching brigitte bardot shoot french new wave than brit pop piss shes got this way of angling up her knees hook ing one boot back...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 31, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Parasites I recreated you in sleep. Not as you were; A lanky black teenager with natural hair, perfect teeth, and scars which ran the length of your solid-root body in raised keloid whorls that followed the path of the knife from anus to breasts. We were...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 30, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
An Audience with Dirk Home at last from the Riviera, knowing he must not look back he walks Knightsbridge in dark chapeau and shades. The grey light hurts. At night, rehearsing his own lines – memoir, novels – he is word perfect. After the...
