by Helen Ivory | May 28, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Going without It’s only when I heave myself out of the bath that I begin to feel wet. It’s only when you come out of the biblical rain I see you’re crying. It’s being apart from you makes me see all the time I thought I was depressed I was...
by Helen Ivory | May 27, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Picking Blackberries My grandfather told me to look under the leaves as many of them were hiding like fugitives. Protected from the spines wearing a coat or thick pullover, he’d nonchalantly part the brambles so that we could enter a...
by Helen Ivory | May 26, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Pandemic The windscreen’s dusty, I forgot to turn off the lights and now the car won’t start. I won’t I assure the man by phone try to hug you when you come. My mother comes forward, I take a few steps back. She cuts the fish and chips in half...
by Helen Ivory | May 25, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
In My Dream You are Not Cold I’m not shrouded in a blanket of smog as the first of the winter’s heavy pollution hits the city schools don’t shut and there are no warnings for pregnant women (in my dream, there aren’t refineries and power plants to...
by Helen Ivory | May 24, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Postcard from the Spring The place I write from Is small and quiet Minor key. It is a world of infinite beauty Copious possibility Mute exuberance. It is not me, but part of me, The words appear unhappy Crying for joy. I want to illustrate a world...
by Helen Ivory | May 23, 2020 | Featured, Word & Image
Dan Dorman teaches creative writing at the Cleveland Institute of Art and circulates library books. His writing can be found at jubilat, Word for/Word and Jet Fuel Review. Connect with him @dormanpoet.
