Monthly Archives: June 2016

Wheelbarrow

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “Contrasts, St. Vitus Cathedral”). Considering the slopes of noble toil and grave matter, so much depends upon a soiled wheelbarrow.

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Review of Raking the Dust

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

A review of Raking the Dust for which I was most appreciative. “Gritty and serene, twisted and sweet, bizarre and weirdly relatable… this novel is magical surrealism and simple authenticity woven together in an improbably captivating tale. I was reminded of … Continue reading →

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Mass

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “At Church.) jesus christ we applaud your shaded storehouse of yesterday’s cured pulp and no account sins, a meat pack industry at love’s labor’s cost; we, the proud brood of salt and bread, walk … Continue reading →

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Of Men: Strength and Vulnerability

Posted on June 29, 2016 by John Biscello

  This photo from Zoe Zimmerman’s elegantly empowered collection “Of Men: Strength and Vulnerability” was selected to appear in the outdoor photography exhibition The Fence 2016. Opening July 9th, where it will run for three months, in the Railyard Park in … Continue reading →

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Leaf

Posted on June 29, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “From the Window of my Atelier” series)  A single leaf, solitary, unattached, at home in space, feral pucker seizing upon glass, a lonely kiss moist to the crunch.

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Totem

Posted on June 27, 2016 by John Biscello

   Here, her mother said, pressing something into her palm.    A pinch.    A pinch, breaking skin, spreading blush and heat.    She looked down—her palm now tattooed with a tangle of dark glyphs; a concert of spirals, curlicues … Continue reading →

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Yellow is the Color of my Sad

Posted on June 26, 2016 by John Biscello

Yellow is the color of my sad, how it runs. Some think it is blue but it is not. Blue is the common choice for color/me/sad, the popular one (how moods get typecast), but yellow is much sadder than blue, … Continue reading →

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Dust Bunny

Posted on June 25, 2016 by John Biscello

“I went to the kitchen and fixed myself another drink. Then I went over to the door leading out to the deck and looked through its glass window. The sky, mottled and ominous, looked like it was on the verge … Continue reading →

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Interview on The Last Word

Posted on June 22, 2016 by John Biscello

Podcast of my interview on The Last Word. Listen here. Show description: John Biscello, author, poet, and playwright. The writer’s life and work traces his odyssey from Brooklyn to Taos with a dose of magical realism along the way.

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stones, passing

Posted on June 21, 2016 by John Biscello

At the carnival I was most intrigued by the stone-swallower. A waifish bronze-skinned lady with dark hair, plaited, and slender fingers. I was rapt, watching the way she carefully arranged the stones to form a sort of pyramid at her … Continue reading →

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