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Monthly Archives: February 2017
Cloud Nine
Dylan Thomas falls from his barstool in Heaven— God, tending bar, picks him up, turns to Job—Who am I to judge?
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged cloud-nine, Dylan Thomas, God, Heaven, Job, John Biscello, poem, Poetry, sobriety
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Lighted Window Syndrome
All my life I have had lighted window syndrome. Being outside someone’s window at night, and seeing the lighted window, its warm amber glow was an invitation to feel a sense of home, not to be at home, … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged detachment, ghost, home, John Biscello, Light, Literary, Prose, story, window
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My Sister
My sister and I are bonded in that we were in the trenches together. In the battle-zone that was our household, we were witnesses to and casualties of the same war. I am six years older than my … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, family, John Biscello, Prose, sibling, sister, story
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My Mother
My mother had had a hard life. There have been many challenges, many obstacles, and in a sense you could trace their origins back to her father, her rapist. When your father is also your rapist your childhood … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, courage, family, incest, John Biscello, mother, son, story, survival, urban
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My Father
My father was a tough guy. How tough, it’s hard to say. And when I say tough I mean it in the street-Brooklyn sort of way. Neighborhood-tough, man-tough, like that. As I’ve grown older I’ve realized it’s much more … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, childhood, father, John Biscello, Literary, Prose, son, story
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Manual Labor of Like
I had hoped to make out with Josephine during the movie, but the hand-job was completely unexpected. Even after what Kenny had told me, I was still shocked when it happened. Josephine was the cousin of Jenny, my … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Bensonhurst, boys and girls, Brooklyn, date, handjob, John Biscello, Literary, movie, Prose, sex, story
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Kleptomania
There was a time when kleptomania was all the rage among the women in my family. That is, my mother, and my two aunts, Marie and Rosetta, were robbing department stores and toy stores with casual regularity. I’m … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, christmas, family, John Biscello, Literary, Prose, story, theft, urban
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Bloodlet
I don’t think they can handle the Juice, Davey Dog sneered a challenge. He smirked with superiority and you couldn’t tell exactly where he was looking, because his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. There were eight … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged basement, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, drugs, John Biscello, Literary, Prose, story, urban
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O.T.B.
It was one of the hot-spots on the avenue. The place where the men hung out every day. It was their church, their sanctuary, their cave, a place where the regular lives went away for a little while. My … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, family, gambling, horse racing, John Biscello, otb, Prose, story
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