by Helen Ivory | Nov 9, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
M. Dubois’ Dreams Day is a blown clock, its last wisps ceding to horizon. Heron’s doppelgänger floats belly up on the lake; night, laid like a thousand year egg, breaks over her. The stir of wings whispers a prayer for earthly things; the quench...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 8, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Malt I was a sickly child and for my health Ma fed me Malt from a big brown jar. Glass, big bellied with a silvery lid that we used afterwards to hold a candle to light the cellar. Malt was thick. More gloopy than syrup or treacle and folded back...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 7, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Mamgu In the coal-dark kitchen of Mamgu’s house above the fireplace scratched with coal-dust, brief sunlight reflects in the miner’s lamp. Every morning Mamgu would polish it with Brasso and a red cotton cloth. Her thin hands handled...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 6, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Deco In the elevator with your mother The first floor an apparition Your awareness expands with a pang in your diaphragm. She clothes you in the stall The lipsticked attendants buzz and hiss Spit purple refractions Of waists sliced in halves many...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 5, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Farmer’s Piano Shop Plate Glass Window, Luton, 20th July 1919 I will tell you that after the jet of water lifted me and before it threw me through the plate glass window, I had time to notice a number of things, namely: that the window looked...
