by Helen Ivory | Aug 8, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Of our times and tulips Squirrels have beheaded all my parrot tulips and the supermarket is out of chilli, also tabasco sauce. At the zebra crossing an SUV hurls a diesel glazed puddle into my boots and the rain stings my eyes, breaches the seams...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 7, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
A Gift Morning’s cusp of summer in a cobalt breach the sun is a white coin lifted from the sea. Walking, going somewhere from old rifts, like a calliope, spun like fists on a hurricane stare, glassy arraignment loops a centred pain. (This happens...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 6, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Genetics Yes, you gave us your elegant hands and capricious smile, but as I make my way to the chiropodist this morning, it’s your feet I’m thinking of and how in your later years they gave you constant trouble. I was still too young for our...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 5, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Simulacrum after Jean Baudrillard Pursue the facsimile of the attendance sign; here you must join the line. People in uniform will inform you where to stand, how to sit, when to scream how to follow the rules. When you pass this initial test, you...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 4, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Saving Face Corvus carone, carone, the carrion crow Emerge, from way beyond the pale, one day, clenched feet an amulet about your wrist. You’re eight, like us, you say, toy wilderness we occupy, a monster on your fist, outlandish night. No tinge...
