by Helen Ivory | Nov 20, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Keeping Hens She wore yellow Marigold gloves to catch them, needed fleece-lined rubber between their feathers and her fear – the aerated bones hollow as straws, the flapping flightless wings – that carried them no further...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 18, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Enlightenment 82 On the bus people have plans in their pockets and misgivings are loose change. Their smiles tell you lies and you pocket the difference Stars drip from zips left open. Pasty crumbs are worshipped as promises. A 7up can is an omen,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 16, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Fat Man Oh ribbon weaver what did you weave in the war room for Coventry? Fine sky blue yarns, fat Havana halos, the prophetic ligature for stained black saints. Oh war shepherd the mauling wolves embed our moon torn against our spire. Toe tags queue for...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 15, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Mute After T. S. Eliot I’m holding out my hair like it’s a snake – a slow loop from wrist to wrist. This is how I string my bow: begin softly, pianissimo, before the great crescendo rings. I tighten these here million strings and strum – a cricket...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 14, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Rain At first I thought it was a car pulling up the gravel drive. Now no-one can leave the house. See the fledglings in their speckled overcoats Lined up, scouring the garden as if searching for clues in a murder investigation. See how they stretch the...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 13, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
On Sleeping Alone. oh my oh my what big teeth you have you letters of love smelling of sandlewood in your special box of disappointment and raging not sleeping soundly remembering that you should be the start of the happy ever after story not the...
