by Helen Ivory | Jul 8, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Many hands The day before the fridge broke down I wished it would shut up As I listened, trying to breathe, the noise separated I could hear the electrons shocking about in the wires the liquefied gas gurgling thinly in the pipes a ringing like a...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 7, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Lost Tongue Some said he had no tongue. The words he spoke came through his body. I watched him nod, put up a thumb, flick his head, shake a hand, shrug, and walk fast as if his feet were on fire. Not many people knew him or maybe they didn’t...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 6, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
No Show Poser un lapin is what I keep doing when I suggest we meet in the forest where the air is soft and the trees leafing as though we could walk side by side without touching as though you hadn’t entwined your feet round mine like roots...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Road to Witcombe Water As she passed the white hemlock weeds that crowded the verges beneath the wires from the Old Exchange, my mother left her footprints remembered by the gravel, dusty tracks by the lichgate, fifty years by the weathered,...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 4, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Sweeping out the Store Before the finality of his broom and the open door he pauses to study the trails toing and froing along the dusty sidewalk some crossing this threshold to buy supplies a pair or two don’t stop head on past to the saloon...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Shed Key has a Passive Voice The shed key was lost. The little one tells me it was sucked down a super massive black hole the middle one hopes we will find it by clawing through cat shit the biggest one emits a sound akin to the thump of a...
