by Helen Ivory | May 10, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Self-Portrait as Grammar Revision Some of my dogs are rich. I hurry not to buy such expensive cars. The dentist jumps highest and my friends can bark loudly. Today I feel like toothache. For my birthday I would like that tree. I shall come to your...
by Helen Ivory | May 9, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Stripping the Carcass Stripping meat from the leftover chicken turns my stomach – separating sagging skin from gristle; detaching spinal column from shrivelled vertebrae and bleach-white bone. But I was taught by my mother not to be wasteful, as...
by Helen Ivory | May 8, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Two close voices 1 If I remember when the full moon rose while sunlight still warmed the evening’s outline from below I don’t picture you in the scene but understand that you were everywhere each closing bud each bird settling to roost each...
by Helen Ivory | May 7, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Parched sparrow Does it ever happen to you? A sparrow appears in your dreams Beak open, mouth parched Waterless desperation in its eyes Night after night of a parched sparrow You wake up one morning with nothing on your mind except the memory of some dry...
by Helen Ivory | May 6, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Noticeable The greatest quality of the only person who has ever noticed me is that they think that I’m noticeable. In school everything that made me noticeable made me a target: the birthmark on my face that everyone in my class gave a different...
by Helen Ivory | May 5, 2022 | Featured, Prose
You’ve got a pop belly, mama. Like when you had that baby. It’s a pot belly, she said. And there was no baby. I thought it was pop, because babies just pop out. She didn’t say any more, though when I was very little she said I popped out like a...
