by Helen Ivory | Jul 20, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Home Comfort The village now has broadband: it’s easy to work from home, to cut and paste a spreadsheet, play with the Xbox, reel in, on a short cyber-thread a boxvan from the nearest town laden with super-fruit and exotic bread. Some still walk...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 19, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Vertigo Approaching midnight and the gouges of a mountain lean over us, weeping boulders. Each bend is a hook, hauling us higher. The car howls like a colicky child. I grip the door, you tug at the wheel, a cracked silence thrumming about whose...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 18, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Our Stories Have Been Told To Us Our stories have been told to us, worse we told them, wove them in and out our lives, back and forth and last and first our stories have been told to us, worse to pull them out leaves an absence, a curse, though...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 17, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
When I had a mental illness I just can’t beat it (Quote from Manchester by the Sea) In the unaccounted hours I used to wake up awake. One night I awoke with semen all over my legs I dreamt that I was sexual and wished, and wished, in the glue of...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 16, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Difference The two women cook together in the kitchen with the back door open. They swear and cackle about their boyfriends’ penises. When the sun gets lower in the sky they go out with their steaming plates and sit cross-legged on the tiny lawn...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 15, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Low Heath Wake hearing driven rain and darkness. Little lights along the shore. People shuffle in corridors, doors clunk, beeps reveal patients’ oxygen, heat, blood-force. I dreamed a sickly landscape, my home above the harbour, low heath,...
