Mermaid in torn jeans,
sea glistening on her knees-
Your myth is safe with me.

About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, spoken word performer, and playwright, John Biscello now lives in Taos, New Mexico. He is the author of three novels: Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, and Nocturne Variations, and a collection of stories, Freeze Tag. His fiction and poetry has appeared in: Art Times, nthposition, The Wanderlust Review, Ophelia Street, Caper, Polyphony, Dilate, Militant Roger, Chokecherries, Farmhouse, BENT, The 555 Collective, Instigator, Brass Sopaipilla, The Iconoclast, Adobe Walls, Kansas City Voices, and the Tishman Review. His blog--Notes of an Urban Stray--can be read at Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale was named Underground Book Reviews 2014 Book of the Year.
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9 Responses to Mermaid

    • Thanks. Long live mermaids in torn jeans, eh, my sealoving lass ; )

      Liked by 1 person

      • A blurb from a very old prose
        β€œLike when you’re wearing torn jeans and they are torn just a bit too much showing a bit of your pink and white cotton underwear only if you move in certain ways and even though those movements make you feel incredibly sexy, the contrary sense is exposed vulnerability. Almost a turn on….but not quite.”
        Long live torn jeans. Haha πŸ™‚


      • That’s a wonderful passage, and I, too remember those days of flashing white and pink cotton panties through rips in my jeans and feeling incredibly sexy and somewhat ashamedly exposed, like a Catholic schoolgirl in a plaid skirt on a teeter totter … “almost a turn-on…not not quite” Perfect tension, Miss Holy Jean!

        Liked by 1 person

      • Hm. Wonderful images of your feminine self I now have! Thank you for that


      • The funny thing is, when I was a young lad, I’d sometimes do poetry readings in drag, or just all glam-popped out, my sister would do my make-up and I’d go out in my velvet (I had a velvet fetish back then), and I’d have a grand ol theatrical time πŸ™‚ Not sure I ever owned pink and white cotton panties, but I like the sound of em (panty-fetish to go with my velvet fetish). I guess I’m just a fetishistic kind of a guy!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Did I accidentally mark your last comment as spam? It disappeared. Well, I did get to read it. And yes, satyrs enjoy the feminine in the masculine, and vicey versa. You could almost call it a fetish with them πŸ™‚ Panties, especially “used” ones, have made many appearances in my writings. Clean panties, bah. Used, with the muskscent and stains and mineral seepage and other traces of femaleness. But … I digress πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

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