by Helen Ivory | Oct 1, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
I saw I saw American night in broad daylight I saw houses worth millions of dollars and houses without windows on the outskirts Detroit I saw my ancestors’ American dream several Mexicans cleaning in a hotel where I danced YMCA at a wedding...
by Lydia Hounat | Sep 30, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Revivifying Bees in the PRU* (*Pupil Referral Unit) A tennis racquet leaves a waffle imprint on the forehead of the boys that get too close. The Jackson 5 at full blast at 08:45 bounces off the Georgian townhouses that surround the PRU. This...
by Lydia Hounat | Sep 29, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
fish! that year, the summer was nosebleeds and candy apples. none of our clothes fit us anymore — our bellies burst with fruit and sugar and all the sun we could swallow. we scratched mosquito bites the size of grapes until yellow scabs peeled off, our...
by Lydia Hounat | Sep 28, 2022 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga, Poetry
Tendril Tongues Why do I keep trying to rekindle old flames when I’ve told her time and time again that a relit cigarette just doesn’t taste the same Willow Becomes Butterfly Our love flows heavy then lingers like tired...
by Lydia Hounat | Sep 25, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Helen (Mother) My mother was alone when she gave birth, save for the flocks of anonymous doctors who removed me from her bloodied womb with spears and forceps, whilst my father marked her agony with stains on the bar. When I arrived late, pink,...
by Lydia Hounat | Sep 24, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Clippers We took turns on the wooden chair, feet bare-soled on the kitchen tiles, head bent forward as if in prayer, the old towel around your shoulders. As the clippers purred, nape to crown, I folded each of your ears in turn, while outside, beyond our...
