by Helen Ivory | Sep 11, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Out of Place I lie back, arch my throat, pretend to relax. Contemplate ceiling tiles, and women who do this weekly for pleasure. A basin strangles me. The palm of a hand realigns my head: this is how the ironing board feels when you dance with...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 10, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
It Might Never Happen This is not you, but someone soaked in fake Brut coming at me in a gesture of fake generosity. For goodness sake, I only want a quiet life, it’s no crime not to be a gregarious joiner. Ultra-polite, ultra-wary, I don’t answer...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 9, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Bus Pass Your face was on a bus pass, your hair falling around your face like a curly straw, pressed in a puddle between the Queen’s old face and an Aldi receipt for slippers and chicken. I sit at the stop we used to wait at for the bus to...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 8, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
At Casa Diablo: Portland’s World Infamous Vegan Strip Club I owned a g-string like this, the back connected by a rhinestone butterfly. Starved myself at school to save my dinner money, bought it from Poundland. Prized, peeping above my gym...
by Kate Birch | Sep 7, 2026 | Featured, News, Poetry
Heathrow flight lines I kill lines of ant. Heat arrives in the wrong season. It feels important to know the names of birds under the thrum of a flight corridor. Birds collide with machines, causing damage, risking delays. Who counts bird deaths? A...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 7, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
There’s The Big Things The ash that screams into the night, the lake that dries, the child amongst the rubble, the heat, the fire, the lack of books, the men who’ve clearly lost their minds. And then there’s the small. The glass that smashes on...
