Author Archives: Krysia Jopek

Further Studies in Existentialism /6

The island within: the ship of the singular brought me here, or I was here all along but couldn’t articulate. There were others I had to send away. They didn’t recognize me.   The caregiver doesn’t recognize the beloved. He … Continue reading

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NIGHT GARDENING / summer

Do the neighbors think my flashlight eccentric or that the cat is missing again? Everything is awash in lavender-blue moonlight—especially the towering monkshood, cascades of verbena lace, the white snap dragons. Even the ladders of cathedral bells, the waving French … Continue reading

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NIGHT GARDENING / MOONFLOWERS

I wrapped the clouded night sky around me to hide the moonflowers growing from my stomach up my throat. Their elegant chalices choked me, making it impossible to speak or make sense of things I used to know. They were … Continue reading

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Chorus [from The Glass House of Forgetting]

We never knew what to make of the couple. They weren’t like us at all—their skin color, their features, hair, attire, demeanors. They seemed fake, frankly. Always smiling and the woman—always trying to eavesdrop and speak Arabic. And that House … Continue reading

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Girls in White Dresses [from The Glass House of Forgetting]

Dear Sir and Madam, My family was desperately poor in Taipei. There were nine of us, and I was the oldest. My parents sold me. I’m not sure how much money they received from the two men in suits who … Continue reading

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IMPERATIVE[S]: WARRIOR

Proclaim WARRIOR status. Pluck the dead tiger lilies. The goldfish orange ones, crumpled, and still wet with death. Press down hard when you sign the legal documents. No, we’re sorry. No e-sign–and extra postage will be required. Note: you will … Continue reading

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The Stone Angel, or Forgetting Too Much [from The Glass House of Forgetting]

“Hello. Hello. I don’t know where I am! Hello. I don’t know you!” the elderly woman kept repeating, the woman whose elbow Ziri, the lighthouse keeper, cupped with his hand. “Don’t touch me! I don’t know who you are! You’re … Continue reading

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ANGEL OF POETRY / onyx feathers

The Angel of Poetry shook me tonight, but it seemed, at first, that no words would fall from my mouth or hands. I sewed up those wounds yesterday, I told him, and asked to lie in his dark wings. Some … Continue reading

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first pages of E C H O [E S]

A: I don’t understand what you’re trying to prove. Z: That I have nothing to prove.     A: This path is shadow. Z: This I know.     A: Do not follow the other[s]. Let y come and show … Continue reading

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Further Studies in Existentialism /3

Most nights I go outside to check, the moon is still there. Someone somewhere else might be doing the same thing.   The owl has not yet returned from its stint somewhere else or is a casualty of the widening … Continue reading

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