by Helen Ivory | Feb 17, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
At the Barbers She has a way of tilting your head as if lining up a thought. Neither rough nor tender—decisive, like someone used to responsibility. She remembers names, gently enquires after sick wives, errant sons, daughters who never phone,...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 16, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Faith … without any irritable reaching after fact and reason. John Keats I try not to think about my daughter’s condition when I hug her as all I have to do is think about how I walk down the stairs to lose my feet. Tristan Moss...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 15, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
If It’s Really Love, Then You Have To Accept This, Too I tell you my heart is breaking but the heart has four chambers and is not shaped like a heart at all so unless the fist squeezing my chest is a heart attack, my heart is not actually breaking...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 14, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Changes No, no one is who they think they are, nor what we think they are, either: the demon inside is thinking it and you can’t tell him. Being lion or crab, how did you imagine how your life started , what it became, reinterpreted as a pig,...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 13, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Attraction Like one of those horses on the carousel going round and round in circles sliding up and down a pole for three minutes then stopping a while then starting again for three minutes sliding up and down a pole in circles going round and...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 12, 2026 | Featured, Prose
Loop Dr Summers presses the ignition and the machine whirs to life. Its enveloping metal arches bristle with electricity around him, humming with a new energy that has the platform beneath his feet trembling. The fluorescent lights of his...
