by Helen Ivory | May 27, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Remnants It started with the usual sorts of beautiful trinket – flowers, feathers, pebbles in the rough and wonky shape of things – collected into shoe boxes, or lost beneath the car seat on the journey home. And we didn’t think...
by Helen Ivory | May 26, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Cutters It’s the clatter I hear first of metal tooth biting down scything sharp through the wildings. The most stupid way to die is flaying by hedge cutter. So I wave my arms and jump and the two farmboys with grins like soldiers pause the...
by Helen Ivory | May 15, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Traffic Your name kicks my arse nearly as far as the roundabout where Jenny and Kim lounge on the grass trying to get a tan. Fate gave them their pasty skin, or their parents did anyway, emoting shut-eyed karaoke in the snug of their local...
by Helen Ivory | May 14, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Does it hurt? You were lying when you said it wouldn’t – the measles vaccine, the own brand tampon, rows of dead jellyfish on Dyffryn beach. Leaving that place to come home each summer, leaving home at the end of that summer and never coming back....
by Helen Ivory | May 13, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
In a moment of absence The road whispers in a language not heard these seventy years the sea eats only its pebbles and can be heard calling its kinfolk who listen can listen now the sea can be heard and all the candy floss falls strangely silent...
