by Ivory Web | Sep 10, 2011 | Prose & Poetry
On the Cautious RoadThe Hitchhiker holds his sign hopefully.It is such a sad little sign;
Limp and with a spelling mistake.
Yet it is the way I am going.
If this was 1943 I would stop.
If I was a man I would stop.
Why is he standing there, they ask.I answer. My...
by Ivory Web | Sep 9, 2011 | Prose & Poetry
Are ThereSomeone is breaking the branches?! From midnight to the dawn, The forest is trembling inside me. My trees are innocent, Thirsty for milk, Firm hands, and The scent of effervesce. I'm drinking my mint tea. I'm bringing tranquility without aim,...
by Ivory Web | Sep 7, 2011 | Prose & Poetry
Clown WifeSolly, this life will be the death of us.Fat man prat-falling,each laugh hurts like a punchfor my poodle-man in a flimsy ruff.Otto says he no longer finds you funny,walks you like a tiger he has brokenand taken pleasure breaking.I’ll hold your heart up to...
by Ivory Web | Sep 6, 2011 | Prose & Poetry
Her Face FlickersBefore I go into the waiting room for clinical psychology I go for a piss. My bladder has been a bit funny lately. I piss too much. Sometimes it's difficult to piss.As I wait for it to flow, I stare at the silver flush button on the wall above the...
by Ivory Web | Sep 5, 2011 | Prose & Poetry
The green, green grass.Looking out at the lagoon, he saw that it was a peculiar shade of bluish green. Perched on the edge of it, like a large white communion wafer, was the moon. ‘It looks bloody weird!’ thought Rhys, shrugging his fingers deeper into his...
by Ivory Web | Sep 4, 2011 | Prose & Poetry
Cuckoo Sister Your mother named you Denise Florence:a pencil shavings, navy knickers, inky fingered name.I bounce the syllables on my tongue: they tasteof sherbet lemon; I roll them between my fingertips:the grit of salt and vinegar crisps pricks my paper cuts....
