by Helen Ivory | Sep 20, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Mother to daughter Rejection tastes like stale beer, stinks like old carpets, cup- a soup. Other people’s grime greases the corners of a rented flat, floating, unmoored in some Midlands town where the rain is unrelenting. The cream immobile phone...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 19, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Ignitor propellant In a gun the main propellant charge needs energy supplied as heat, before it will react and burn. The heat is supplied by the ignitor system that consists of a type of propellant that requires little energy to burn, but is...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 19, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Opting For Happiness She puts her child in the car seat on the right side of the pickup. It is a ripe Indian summer day. The smoke-like dust from the dry dirt road swirls in the slight breeze and then is no more. R. Gerry Fabian is a...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 18, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Pink Pink lips came over to our table while we ate dinner said hello to her friend in front of me leaned on the table with one hand the other on her hip she told us about her son, job, salad, her tipple and her very old pink vintage bottle. ...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 17, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Fell at the First Fence Liam limped listlessly into the lift. It was empty. He pressed the button for the seventh floor (Safetyseal Export Sales). There was the usual hiatus, while the mechanism seemed to consider his request. Liam weighed LIFE in...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 16, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Removing the Bouquet The Station Team staff room is just behind Lost Property. There’s a doorway, without a door, connecting the two. If someone rings the bell at Lost Property reception when you’re on a tea break you have to make a judgement call...
