Monthly Archives: August 2017

American Beauty

Posted on August 13, 2017 by John Biscello

It was only after they were dropped off and left alone in the middle of an autumn-brushed field, that she realized that the man with whom she was paired was no longer her husband, or never had been; the stranger’s … Continue reading →

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Serial Cinema

Posted on August 13, 2017 by John Biscello

Between floating images, in the empty, elegant theater, he lingered in cinematic bardo, knowing that his next decision would initiate a a new narrative arc inspired by true events from a previous life.

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Spark

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

The spider’s web grew roots and limbs, modeling itself a bare, cryptic decoy to court the incendiary kiss of lightning upon sallow grounds.

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Nephilim

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

Between thorny and immaterial, Heaven became them in the cold luminous light of Nephilim exacting double-exposure on celluloid.

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In the Beginning

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

The opaque gist and myopic blurring of a freshly risen ghost opening its eyes for the first time, wordless in the beginning.  

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Snap

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

It was the cold snap of the glyphic branch that awakened him to the grave misunderstanding between fall and winter and the nature of dreams unlived.

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Sorcery

Posted on August 11, 2017 by John Biscello

The false portal, merely window dressing, appeared in retrospect, long after the floating disc of arclight had guided her past the wraith, and teeth of smoke, a daring exit into fathomless depths.

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Wound

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

After the first wounding, a necessary course of retrieval was set. She entered herself, a ritual sacrifice to the gods of trespass. She wouldn’t move on until every single pore radiated symmetry undisturbed.

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Mystery

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

Because we never met, you will forever and always remain the fretted girl behind double crossed scratched glass square rooted Brooklyn train station blues, the soundless frozen fragment of a life running on and outward bound.

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Ballad

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

In a realm of plastic fable, and reversal of lore, the hooded naif, after years of stalking the shadow of the beast, has him within arm’s length, preparing to reach in and retrieve the swallowed moon, the bones of a … Continue reading →

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