by Helen Ivory | Jan 29, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
demons and saints Next I see the town drunk shuffling along the side of the road in his slippers and old coat and it’s 80 degrees out. And there’s the damn predictable cigarette dangling from his unshaven face and he’s got on these ridiculous...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 28, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Toad Patrol Crossing the road is imminent. The moon is high – The lake is still And the blob-a-gobs jiggle and mulch inside and all thoughts are fat with ‘Pop’ And my back it pipes with nuptial clamp – that once I loved – but now I carry So it’s...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 27, 2013 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Cryogenic Steam First I fell from a window and thought I’d never reach the ground. A door opened in the fog. Once inside I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it feels like to be dead. Somehow when I found myself walking the steppe it...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 25, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Artist in Residence Every Sunday, your soap opera’s weekly omnibus ; winning the council flat, battling the filth left by a procession of slatternly tenants like exorcizing a stubborn demon. So my telephone imagination expects a plain face to a tuneless...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 24, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Sir Richard Burton invites the apes to dine after Walton Ford’s ‘The Sensorium’ It began a civilized affair. The table was laden with mangos, with pomegranates and plums and set on the veranda. Such guests as we were not welcome inside. A macaque...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 23, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Air Proclaims a Union Inside the inside of the orange. Or inside the outside. Forces elemental rather than particular. The peel, the pulp seen from particles outward. * My surroundings feel more and more like the manifestation of an exquisite...
