by Helen Ivory | Jun 17, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Automat Chicken sandwich widow in a cave Edward Hopper edible so lonely it wants to bite off a piece of itself and eat it. * Nothing More To Say The stout aunt says, His coffin is small. He was small. Heaping upon him her scoop of dirt. ...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 16, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
The Road Our father taught us kindness, bringing home speechless men to sit watchfully at the table, their wild hair and swollen fingers mysterious on the white damask, staring as our father gestured with the family silver, leaning in towards the...
by The Repeat Beat Poet | Jun 15, 2022 | Poetry, Word & Image
Chernobyl : past, present and future tense It all feels sepia; liquidator-faces filling the coach windows dust in the air, that grainy hue that will etch into their bones, scrape its mark on their lungs, turn their complexions a...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 14, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Burying the Husband As your hearse stretches the road we walk, trying to be respectful. My shoulders heave an ease at their freedom, my bruises will heal now there’ll be no fresh hits. Our feet turn, our bodies sideways themselves through the gap...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 13, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
By the Time I Learn about the New York School Poets I Can Walk Around their Neighbourhood Without Leaving My Living Room for SD It’s six thirty in the evening, going dark I’ve zoomed to the other side of an ocean been helped to understand what...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 12, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
April Showers In the spring, we wait on overblown grass, trading false promises of a golden summer. I cry at the sight of swathes of daffodils, parading their freedom in joyful orbits of propagation. I cry over exams because my heart’s poison is...
