Author Archives: Krysia Jopek

from DIRGE: a ballet for 13 dancers [fragment- hymns]

The planes flew through your chest at high speed because someone called you sky, and you wanted to believe. Ghost planes with no one onboard except robots counting dollhouse packages—or elegant military birds. No one had the heart to tell … Continue reading

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from DIRGE [amplifications]

The composition ruptures, slips. We staple, glue, and sew, so there is teetering. Parts of the brain won’t cooperate. The subject of the story will say no. Mourning doves need more time. Talk wanted to talk about itself. Lilacs became … Continue reading

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from DIRGE [postcards]

The pillars were removed succinctly— stone generals lying down.    Olive trees shivered. The audience wept inexplicably. Maybe I lit the fire. Maybe I dreamed I was awake. We were renaming stairs, trading pages no one should read. A new … Continue reading

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DIRGE XI

Nothing actually begins the way you have it. Just the ice cracking over old women who want to get out. Tell them the rescue crew exploded. Tell them anything that doesn’t burn your mouth. Someone once loved me. Someone else … Continue reading

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DIRGE: a ballet for 13 dancers [prelude with cellos]

1 dancer [hazel] I slept in the Book of the Dead and woke with parchment scrolls blooming tired magnolias from my unhinged mouth. Lugubrious cellos attempted to climb me back to the mud-encrusted, brick floor–but I panicked. When my thinking … Continue reading

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TANGERINE SYMPHONY

Monday shuffled the rain’s pages, soggy and spent. Tuesday threw a lifeline to resurrect dreaming. After this many days of torrential rain and thunderstorm— the sun’s image fits in a miniature dollhouse’s tiny white frame. The velvet masquerade would still … Continue reading

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THE FEATHERS OF WINGS DESIRE THUMBRINTS

Distance throws points pointing to the Subject [of Yellow Feathers]. Lost in the sun—a rogue magician feeds finches from a torn sleeve. This is where the owl lives at night with baby bats after the crickets and tree frogs’ duet … Continue reading

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[THE AFTERLIFE SMELLS LIKE GHOSTS]

I opened the metaphysical with a can opener. [The puzzle, magical.] I don’t want to spoil. [Delay denied the last dandelions.] I wrote 87 emails but couldn’t hit SEND. [Events took place in brackets.] I felt your face with feathers. … Continue reading

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CONFESSIONS

I wanted to go there but I can’t remember—to be with someone lost in the field of wildflowers—that disappeared when I touched a memory that confused the horizon. The address of the doctor who promised not to cure me but … Continue reading

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THE DARK PROLIFERATES EVERYTHING

Let’s not get into this now—this driverless car that could easily crash that neither of us can afford, this city taxi cab (that will drive too fast near the bicycle lane)—or step into this afternoon of apple-green light, prescient of … Continue reading

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