by Helen Ivory | Apr 10, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Cepaea nemoralis A dozen snail shells exposed on dry soil in the archangel’s cut brown stalks. Banded like fairground sweets and helter-skelters, but forget all those frivolous stripey things. These are brittle, open-mouthed vacancies, void of the...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 8, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Notes from the Constanta train station At the shore of impossibility last moments come to nothing all our plans die in the salt air of another new day on the black sea. There is a sadness in the way we leave the ocean in summer that no cocaine...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 7, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
My trans friends and I just want to go swimming in cold water without a thousand eyes watching. to dunk our very own heads under and feel as the breathing world is wiped out. to get an ice cream from a van in the park and watch it drip down the...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 6, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Nothing much It was the snatch of a dream, someone said this is not what you do in the desert, it was one precise thing, not a list, and I had to find my way back to it. They always ask you now, don’t they, to remember how it felt. I only heard...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 4, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Everything Changes Goiás Velho, Brazil (for Terezinha Pereira da Silva) We leave early, drive for two and a half hours, park, find the church where you were married. Later, in town, an information officer listens, searches assiduously through the...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 3, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Salem January IV The sky opens Blinking its single slackened eye. It grumbly gets up. Before shuttering again and whatever blue was there Is gone. It’s gone again. What is there left to say about Marc Janssen? Maybe, his verse is...
