by Helen Ivory | Sep 17, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Douglas Dunn’s Elegies A cold night in Kirkcaldy, November, Winds from the Forth examining the town. An old college building near the water, Gusts analysing the windows where my night school class sits ingesting the poems about a diagnosis...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 16, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Don’t Blame Eve I know that a storm is due. Dance with me on a tin-roof while you wait for him to grab you, snatch you, toss you like so much skip-rag. No, you won’t wait (although you’re sure you could take him if you wanted). Anywhere the...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 15, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Oberwolfach Travelling on a local train, Not knowing a colleague’s name, Inside the guard room on metal benches. I dream of fatherhood, One whose body never changes The beneath of the tracks. The momento mori where I survive In devious flakes. The...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 14, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Lidice On June 10, 1942, the German government announced that it had destroyed the small village of Lidice, Czechoslovakia, killing every adult male and some fifty-two women. All surviving women and children were then deported to...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 13, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
404 404 is “page not found”, dead link, the way the world forgets the things you did; its chain got twisted up, got oddly kinked, and all you’ve done’s undone, your thoughts unsaid. You’ve been written out, in code, in secret ink: No sense in...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 12, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
I put make-up on for the Deliveroo driver Pornography implies this a fruitful strategy for lonely women. Often their husbands are out of town, but you could be anywhere. I put make-up on for the Deliveroo driver, hot ribs and bang bang cauliflower hint...
