by Helen Ivory | Nov 1, 2022 | Featured, Prose
The Noise Outside That day, on the patio, you heard a noise and you jumped up, ready to act, while I just froze, telling the story again and again to your mother, her lover, everyone knew that you were brave and I just froze, my sister, my dad, a...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 21, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Then After a time of fires in oil drums, eddies of dog packs where the hospitals had been, first histories were published elsewhere, first conferences counted the spent cartridges. Wildflowers meantime came straggling back to cover the poisons,...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 20, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
My Albatross and Me my albatross is an over-stretched suitcase spilling out stuff I must remember my albatross was small but she grew like Topsy now she will not fit back in her box my albatross is a story, a black and white movie, a steam train...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 19, 2022 | Featured, Prose
Skipping the Light Fantastic ‘You’d never believe it to look at her, but there goes Rita Pulaski, World Jump Rope Champion nineteen fifty-six,’ my grandmother said, pointing a pudgy finger at the window. ‘Really? Her with the two sticks?’ I said,...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 18, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Containers From on this cliff top, I can clearly see the quarter-mile-long ship across the bay, a dark shape of unseen complexity. I am a sack of bags, with tubes that go between them, and with fine wires everywhere. I am the mind that feels this...
