by Helen Ivory | Oct 17, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
HG I know others blossom but I vomit ectoplasm, and squaring the corners of my bed, the nurse reminds me I’m not dying. I’m just expecting an alien that feeds on my nerves because I’m not even exaggerating how much her old school air is grating on...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 16, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Matred After the medieval “Noah plays” of Chester, York and Towneley. Noah’s wife is traditionally not named in religious texts. The name Matred comes from a novel by Madeleine L’Engle. It is known: a woman like that brings evil on board. Look at...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 15, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
In the Café Did anybody actually (most of all, me) think I could write here? At a trestle table, notebook blotting crumbs (fast hardening to glue), leftovers of a cartoon transfer, vermilion-tipped cactus tramping down the radio. Heat on the...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 14, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Wrapping Up You have buried your mother and put a memorial bench on a high hillside where the wind blows sunsets straight through and it’s always better to wear something warm. A great walker, your mother. Cities, holloways, rugs by cradles. As...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 13, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Ritual You used to wind yourself in curtain turning taut, look down at your feet, pirouette as the fabric hugged you in. I’d idle as you called me from your hide, and draw the other curtain. And unspooling the fabric as I called your name, you’d...
