by Helen Ivory | Oct 23, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Fish and Chips When I went round the next day with a bottle of wine, his wife said he was bruised down both sides from squeezing through our upstairs bathroom window. He’d been on his way to get more fish from the freezer at the end of their...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 22, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Poison Takes the Place of Food There’s no one in the flat when I come home from school, my dinner in the fridge – poison on a flowered plate, covered with tin foil, surrounded by full shelves of poison. I warm mine up, dust with salt but it...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 21, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
A mouthful of stones The sister I don’t have has pockets bulging with silver-foiled chocolate and popping candy, rustling- wrapped strawberry surprises and infinite packets of unopened love hearts. She leaves me the pocket full of stones, ones my...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 20, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Cine Reels On screen, Dad was the radical – the introverted pen-and-notepad kind, donkey jacket, beard, betrayed. Another time he played a photographer eyeballing Liverpool – statutes, pigeons, couples out to lunch. Thieves snapped in the act. Our...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 19, 2026 | Featured, Prose
My Story Will Be Perfect Rain like it was Biblical. Sidewalk empty, just me and a happy drunk with the weather-hardened look of a rough sleeper sauntering down the hill from Victoria Station in my direction, shouting out his joy to the world. As...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 18, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Some of This Is True Sun comes out, my body opens all its folding doors, its windows. Sun comes out, my body floats – like feather, cirrus, floats across the grass. Sun comes out. Under the apple tree in the hammock, my body lays me down. Sun...
