by Helen Ivory | Feb 17, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Shtriga The evil eye is when someone you love looks at you but they aren’t there. My mother is now a Disney villain; the sun has become an insult. She should be fitted with a blood-black velvet cape. Pale blue eyes in a hard-set face stare out...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 16, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
The Art of Collaboration Whatever job he’s given, the collaborator is a perfect fit. A man of no fixed particulars. His views are plastic and always on the verge of being melted down and made otherwise. His life is a full orchestra of raised...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 15, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
At the Birmingham markets When I was young, before the sky was torn, I strutted in-and-out of poisoned jobs and bare-walled rooms, poor yet indestructible, naive and full of quirk and piss, not belonging but belonging, knowing more than anyone...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 14, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Thief You took my index finger and showed me where to go. My thumb you painted green. What do you want to grow? My elbow helps you move across a crowded room. But why’d you take my mouth? What will you say, to whom? You swept my feet away...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 13, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
You There you are again at the far end of the empty beach, scrambling over rocks beneath the abandoned nunnery painted ice-cream green. Fleet as a greyhound, tiny as a mote floating in the outer corner of my eye, matted hair a billowing ghost of...
