by Helen Ivory | Jan 25, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
How it feels to be a bat There are the headaches, then the feverish sense of darkness. Taste, none but the crackly limbs of gnats. Hate is a constant on the radar and immense blank surfaces block the call by which I come to belong in the shape of a...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 24, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
A defence against all sabotage I shake out the creases from my coat, and climb the hundred steps leading to the feet of a bronze giant, its right hand raised, welcoming. I’m meant to lift my eyes, to take in its magnificence, to be stirred up into...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 23, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Slip Hold on tight to my writing hand, darling boy. Who knows how many words I have left. Don’t let me give them all to the page. Holly Conant is a new writer and mature student, currently studying at the University of Leeds. Her poems...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 22, 2021 | Featured, Prose
Groundhog Bachelor and Drunk Ganders Before the art opening, over appetizers downtown, leisurely and expansively, my aunts Evelyn and Jane swapped stories availing the phrase “it’s true, it’s true” too frequently. According to their testimony (not...
by Helen Ivory | Jan 11, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Towards A Dennis O’Driscoll Re-write of A Cesare Pavese Poem Stupid takes after you, its smirk the one you wear while confidently doing whatever it is you do worst. You wouldn’t recognise stupid if it superglued your eyes open, threw a bucket of...
