by Helen Ivory | Jun 28, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
The News is in The news is in. Grey fears can go away now. These flames are black and green, the colours of disease. It isn’t true! But only because I keep my eyes closed. If I open them, the wall offers an Arctic ferment of blues, the ceiling is...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 27, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Join us for a live zoom reading from Stuart Ross and Bloodaxe poet Clare Shaw in our new occasional ‘Live from the Butchery’ series, hosted by Helen Ivory and Martin Figura from their home. The reading will take place on Sunday 28th June, 4pm GMT, 11am...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 26, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Fin The first bars are the seeds from which the music grows, but even the music’s surprised when it flowers; by what it knows. The first snow lands; each further flake that falls is laid on the flake before, and turns the world to white and shade:...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 25, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Country Train of My Country I see from a distance, its metal backbones disappearing into the blue haze of our day. It moans and vomit its human snort into the silent heat. Kacha kuchu ka……cha Kuchu……uuu Kachaaa Kuchuuu. Kweeeeeeeeee.
The sound steps...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 24, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
how to lose your mind at the end of the world (an instruction manual) step one: stare out the window for hours on end. pretend you’re making eye contact with someone. step two: envision a post-apocalyptic future, where you only eat canned beans,...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 23, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Why the river? Shannon sat in her tattered recliner chair and scowled at the cheesy infomercials on the television. It’d been exactly four years since the Mississippi River took her son Gus away. Gus was a freshman at the state university where he...
