by Helen Ivory | Mar 5, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Out of office auto-response desks morph into surplus femurs stalking unlit rooms chairs are pelvises minus a sense of swing walls creep further apart each day carpet oceans lap workstations nobody needs to raise a voice now on the executive...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 4, 2022 | News
Please join us on zoom for live readings from Ian Duhig, Kathleen Jones and Anne Bailey on Sunday 6th March at 4pm UTC This is part of our monthly award-winning ‘Live from the Butchery’ series, hosted by Helen Ivory and Martin Figura from their home (an old...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 4, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Once upon a time there was a word that was sick of its meaning the way it was said and said like a wet cloth carelessly slapping a table. What a tearjerker of a word it was. It barely knew what it meant anymore like it had collapsed from...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 3, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Thread It was gold thread curled tight around a possessive spindle. It was waiting to unspool itself to bind and shape this to that. It had never been in a labyrinth and was not afraid of the dark. Colin Pink has published two...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 2, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Smoky Mother chain-smoked, leaving lipsticked butts in plastic ashtrays, where they sent up wisps for hours. Now, wildfires out west blow their dark clouds of sadness eastward to muddy the skies over Lake Michigan that used to be blue. I...
