by Helen Ivory | May 15, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Things I did then that I hadn’t done before Asked the neighbours if they wanted anything in my online weekly shop and Bought yeast, flour, long-life milk and 70-per-cent-alcohol hand sanitiser and Cut my own hair, even the bits round the back I...
by Helen Ivory | May 14, 2024 | Featured, Prose
The Queen of Limerick City In the photo-booth Eva gets self conscious, blinking when the flash pops. “It’s not me,” she screams out loud as the photo pops out. It isn’t; is a picture of an older woman with dark, not blond hair. Eva starts to...
by Helen Ivory | May 13, 2024 | Featured, Prose
The Boy and the Beach The boy was lost and he went to the beach on his own. He walked along the beach and he was scared of everything: of himself, of the sand and the sun and sea. He walked with his head down. As an even younger boy he came to the...
by Helen Ivory | May 12, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Quiet, Elizabeth Elizabeth is hiding in the cupboard under the sink Small enough to fold between cream cleaner and floor polish Too big to keep elbows away from wire wool Knees away from the slick puddle of the U bend Nose away from the liquitab...
by Helen Ivory | May 11, 2024 | Featured, Prose
Dragons get their smoke from the poke man There are few sounds sadder than the plinky-plonk of Greensleeves from a passing ice cream van. Mickey Mouse’s face plastered on its arse, rainwater rivulets streaking down his grimy cheeks. Processing...
by Helen Ivory | May 10, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Acts of Repair Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? (Tupac Shakur) You wouldn’t believe how quick they grew — Our babies were men now. Lifting bags of concrete they rebuilt cities, slab by slab, reinforcing cracks....
