Monthly Archives: March 2018

Mercy

Posted on March 5, 2018 by John Biscello

She, unmoving, has remained the same for millennia, mercy on a tether. As for the tombs, the plots, the names engraved on headstones, those are always different, change, the truest source of sorrow replenished.

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Storm

Posted on March 5, 2018 by John Biscello

At night, Rorschach wraiths, born of light’s role play with rain– Woman, wet, enclosed.   (Photo by Anthony Distefano)

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Rain

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

Mist leavening mood, Noir, by any other name– In rain, lovers prey.   (Photo by Anthony Distefano)

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Hallway

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

This could be titled John Biscello Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, could be titled Romancing the Ghosts, or perhaps no title at all, just a flickering reminiscence trapped in a photo snapped by a childhood friend who swears that he occasionally … Continue reading →

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Doll

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

She keeps strict vigil over Childhood in action, every fragrance and nuance, every lost tooth and blown-out birthday candle, every romp in the grass and Goliath slain, she keeps conscious watch, so later, when the box and the dark come … Continue reading →

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Follow Me

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

Upon returning, the man claiming to be Jesus knew the perfect place to kickstart his new wave of miracles, as the parishioners of social media congregated into a mob and followed him down a crooked alley to a street often … Continue reading →

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Symmetry

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

It is the filigreed static, and effluvient roar of the water nymphs choral concert, which numinously orders the light and stones to conspire, and function as delegates of symmetry.

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Remainder

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

Sometimes, the children who have gone underground, the chance orphans who choose spelunk or burrow or blackest pitch out of necessity and survival instinct, leave behind tangible remnants of their former lives, sacrificed to sights and gods unseen by morally … Continue reading →

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Choose Your Own Suspense

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

Whether I had been waiting for him, or he for me, I could no longer remember. Or maybe he was a she, and I was a you, gender and pronouns being so malleable and always in flux. Whoever, or whatever … Continue reading →

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Not Nietzche

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

If you gaze long enough into a lighted window at night, eventually the lighted window goes dark. (i.e., Common Sense for Uncommonly Complicated Philosophers Who Hang out at Starbucks and Read Immanuel Kant While Hoping That the Nerdy-Cute Barista Finally … Continue reading →

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