Monthly Archives: February 2018

Paper Trail

Posted on February 26, 2018 by John Biscello

Completed draft of my new novel, No Man’s Brooklyn. A return to childhood, to the source of ghosts, to Brooklyn roots.

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Sublime

Posted on February 24, 2018 by John Biscello

The mouth, birthing a migrant kiss, begs gravity’s pardon in raising lips to a sublime arc.

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Indelible

Posted on February 24, 2018 by John Biscello

To ebb, the startling clarity of a stolen kiss sentenced to null and ghost, to lips indelibly parted then closed.

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Enclosure

Posted on February 24, 2018 by John Biscello

Sometimes, it is just a marginal thatch of shadow slivering a cheek, or the rounded vowel of dimple puckering brazenly a bare knee, or the laser surgery performed on my small, fearful history, by a stray, smoldering gaze, it could … Continue reading →

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Bonepick

Posted on February 24, 2018 by John Biscello

I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. Whether or not they help is either of primary consequence or none at all. Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard in order to reach the garden. This what I tell … Continue reading →

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Soma

Posted on February 24, 2018 by John Biscello

It is, at winter’s finite edge, that we glean the bent, palsied bloom, somatic in its turn toward Spring’s inevitable host.  

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Gauge

Posted on February 24, 2018 by John Biscello

If, in words I found you wanting, lean to perish, would silence bestow a second, surer opinion?

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Gist

Posted on February 23, 2018 by John Biscello

The manic blush and titter of young love is no serum nor mirage, but rather the gist of bloom martyred so soon to thorns.

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Cherish

Posted on February 23, 2018 by John Biscello

This side of dream, to marvel in sheer trespass and longing, to engage the mystery and riot of skin, by touch and flagrant cherish.

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Bask

Posted on February 23, 2018 by John Biscello

Rapt, in gratitude, the writer fasting on silence, and slimmest wisps, to gain Beauty’s favor and superlative bask, beyond recognition.  

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