by Helen Ivory | Apr 13, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Something Sometimes Waking up I remember Exactly nothing Forget who And what I am, Forget why And when I look out the window See a blue sky A few clouds Go about doing Little of much And it’s good Great even But slowly Memory Starts to crawl...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 12, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Gethsemane You tell me that the Vicar had said that God wanted your child for his garden, as I sit making careful notes in your wife’s chair. I always sit in the chair of the deceased like a macabre party game, though the music never stops for me....
by Helen Ivory | Apr 11, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
New English Phrasebook My psychiatrist suffers from low self-esteem. I only cut my forearms on Saturdays. I have no friends, just followers. We offer a mindfulness approach to social status readjustment. Your kiss tastes of micro-plastics. We have...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 10, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
First Proving A puffball lump of dough kneaded warm like flesh swells in the bowl, drugs our lungs with yeast, pops little bubbles to keep us hooked promises a feast of crust parcelling a whiteness that fluffs against our tongues, then trails a...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 9, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Blue We roll up our trousers and wade into the city river, down a sloping bank of cool mud which soothes our cracked feet, the water now up to our waists, now over our heads, down into a valley of silt like the hull of a giant wrecked boat...
