Author Archives: Krysia Jopek

Count the steps to the mailbox at night, the number of seconds in emotional freefall, the minutes left in the hour, the hours until the work finish line. There is always more time [on some level] somewhere. When flipping the … Continue reading →

  writing• IS like | REAL-ly hard•W/OR/K!— ¥often // [m]ore— di•IFF/i-CULT— V/S• eas•I•ER— — like—. 4 n/ow seem/in[g]/hope[less] e[n]-snared— by: A co•loss}al [b]all -of- // \\ole-ag- [i] n/o – US— f[ray]-i[n]g— ya/rn — — to[o] -ma/n-y— [m]e/t-ER/s to me/as/u/r E— … Continue reading →

Lost, this. Lost, thus. Sleep wages a feeble war to defy her armor. Her edges pull down a tent of stupor. The brain—an organ of electro-chemical relationships, toxic or devoid. Transactions missing syn- apses, useless syntax. The final lime green … Continue reading →

Fireworks resumed deep in the stomach, avalanching a euphoria that bled enormous lilies. The attendant soundtrack was quite abstract [ocean at high tide set to rain]: recompense for too many days of suffering. If you can only blame yourself, don’t … Continue reading →

The slanted rain took away perpendicular lines. Waterproof lipstick, a first-world commodity. The man collecting cans did not know how to count them. The store owner did not cheat him, and the man was able to buy two single servings … Continue reading →

The day off demanded the jettisoning of shoes and the polite face for customers. The Farmington river ran through the rocks; technology was eschewed.   Skipping stones again to travel with the currents—somewhere moving underwater toward the fishermen waiting for … Continue reading →

The rain came to be a refrain that August that would recede like all days into the rearview mirror, an exercise in memory and distance.   One wondered how the tomatoes would ever ripen and how the portulaca would ever … Continue reading →

Sleep took the dreamer after the thunder and lightning to the sea and then a war that descended at the shoreline. Airplanes decorated the sky without noise or music. Then, the refrain of rain and waking. On one’s feet all … Continue reading →

Samual waited two weeks before he approached Ethan and sought him at night—thinking the proprietor would be tired and more likely to comply. The man’s Arabic wasn’t as good as the wife’s, which would also work to his advantage. He … Continue reading →

1. The dog drove the jeep into the cement base of the Handicapped sign. The traffic continued to flow on the highway. The angels are tired from saving so many. The ghosts cringe in an abstract way. No one finds … Continue reading →