by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Just in Case You’d Forgotten there are some lives lived poolside and others that mostly consist of a bent back in a field – some are chauffeured some are piled into the backs of trucks driven fifty miles from border to farm on rough roads –...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
To the Litten Tree Morning sees droplets of spittle flicked over foraging insects. Down hind legs, hidden among the leaves, the sated dump fresh honeydew and trees weep sugar. Sweet hurt. Little graces matter. The bus drivers know us, let us smoke...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 2, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Bats You are pleased to see me in my gothic T-shirt – those bats, you say, have been your friends. Throughout the months you think you’ve been here, they have perched above your bed, protectors, telling you by sonar, not to fear. Without them, you...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 1, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Mark Wyatt now lives in the UK after teaching overseas. His work has recently appeared in Exterminating Angel, Greyhound Journal, Ink Sweat and Tears, Osmosis, Sontag Mag, Streetcake Magazine, and Talking About Strawberries All Of The Time. More here:...
by IB | Jun 30, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
white flag, black flag he lived with his hand permanently on the throttle, like it would kill him if he let it go. existence passed in flashes, his alcohol soaked dreams indistinguishable from reality—he was a victim of his divorced mind chalking up his...
by IB | Jun 29, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Bananas My mother gives me a pound note, creased, warm like a secret. Go buy a pound of bananas, she says, and I, too quick, ran out. I walk the tiled floor of the grocers, past rows of sparkly gala apples, ruby grapes size of gobstoppers. I point at the...
