by Helen Ivory | Aug 15, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
The place I come from….. after Robert Seatter A father filled with darkness And memories Of Welsh mountains. I come from a mother With hair Like the princess In a fairy tale. I come from A country town Where we played Out in the fields And were not...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 14, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Bia Hoi And it must be about the same time each night, perched on the little red plastic stools, too small for hairy western legs, around yellow plastic tables, sipping bia, watching the road jam-up when a few cars try to navigate the old-quarters tributary of...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 12, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
talking like rimbaud i don’t talk enough for them they tell me that i don’t talk we talk all day here they say to me but you just sit and say nothing i don’t know what happened to me maybe i lost the passion for conversation maybe i just got dull i’d like to...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 11, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Fireworks The fireworks came from the water, or so he thought, lighting a cigarette with an old matchbox, wishing he could light it off his girlfriend’s cheek, and leave her skin prickling with the heat. Did it mean a thing? Closing gaps in the crowd,...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 10, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Immigrant on reading Jhumpa Lahiri’s ‘Unaccustomed Earth’ Last night, I found myself floating through an airport so white it seemed like the inside of a shell seen from a baby’s eyes The luggage I was dragging behind me was light...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 9, 2012 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Whoopers’ Greeting As the stifled windmills curve their stillness into the blank a crop of white necked swans spaced as boats in the churning green unify a...
