by Helen Ivory | Nov 12, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
The Last Olive I offer you the last olive. Have it yourself, you say. Don’t be ridiculous, I reply – just take it. I saved it for you. You bite into the olive, your teeth working their way around the hard interior. You eat half of it and hand the...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 11, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Munitionettes Yes I was a canary girl who survived the accidents the explosions, even the chemicals didn’t poison me. For two pounds per week, no health and safety no goggles as we watched the slow discoloration of hair and skin. Long days, so...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 10, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
After the Fall The dead flies collected on the windowsill like punctuation. Black corpses against flaking white gloss, dotted like bombs falling over London or Berlin. Tiny UXBs lying waiting wanting to explode back into life. Kevin...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 9, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Pillar saint Crammed onto his high stone square, he cranes to see the whole number of eternity as it unwinds its relentless gilded length, trailed by bi-plane cherubim and their seraphic cousins – but he is granted only a raw bald pate horned...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 8, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
The first time we knew you weren’t of us The magic people are coming, you said. You took us outside and pointed at the sky. You were two, long dark lashes like your dad’s that brushed your cheeks when you closed your eyes, your head full of stars...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 7, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Human Across the road stands a woman wearing a child on her heart, her breast- milk stained t-shirt plays peek-a-boo with the infant’s bobbing head, toothless grin scattering in all directions. The baby raises her hands like a conductor...
