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...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 22, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Unravelling Fields like tapestry Fields like patchwork quilt Fields like ripples over water Fields like sunspots on lens Fields floating clouds shifting with wind shapes always changing an old stone wall diced onion in a frying pan ...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 21, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Untitled / Villanelle I have often longed to see my mother in the doorway.’- Grace Paley Because having a father made me want a father. – Sandra Newman I have often longed to see my mother tap-dance in a top hat like she did before he died –...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 20, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Reviews
Poetry comes from a deeply personal inner landscape. But what happens when external geographies bring their own emotional and social clout to the party? Enter John Dust – the riveting personification of Louise Warren’s native Somerset. Dust feels...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 19, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Void It was before dawn when I saw him hurtle behind an asteroid illuminating my telescope with the flash of a cheap bathroom bulb too hot and burst under stress. And you can flip the switch but the cosmos told him to hide so he’ll nick himself...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 18, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Blue Light A pain in my leg wakes me at 4. I stand to stretch out the cramp. Blue light pulses on the ceiling. I part the drapes. Across the street an ambulance ticks. In a pool of light from a street lamp, an old man is trundled out, an oxygen...
