by Helen Ivory | Nov 29, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Coupling with Jane Austen Even so. You would be surprised, although perhaps you had surmised, to hear how often I watched you, sometimes I was positive you knew how often I was on the point of falling down on your bed and crawling in with you. I have...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 28, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Conjure There are no horses in the field opposite, only a pale stubble cut to the quick. No, there are no horses, but I can conjure them, their autumn coats, the brisk shiver of sinewed necks in the stippled mist that clings like breath. I do not...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 27, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Rapids When he got kicked out in second year for smoking hash on the Astroturf, relief heaved from everyone’s throat. No longer would we have to fear his ape-like strut, fists’ basalt salvo, rain-grey tracksuit, knife-like stare. There were lads...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 26, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Platform From where I sat I thought he was wearing red shoes an eccentric choice with all that so correct black and I liked him for it. Not until he stepped down did I see they too were black, ferociously polished; and that blood shade was only the...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 25, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Geometry I feel boxed in triangulated condemned to slow spherical orbit. I could be a square pretending to be a rectangle but the isosceles in me won’t have it. My perpendicular is at odds with your diagonal. Right angled, blindsided, I try to...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 24, 2018 | 2018 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
While the rope creaks The tall red haired girl recollects that she has balanced on the frayed tips of forests the mutant skins of rivers the sawn edges of seas that her precarious symmetry has taken her along the uncertain beam of the world but now she...
