I used to wreck
on a regular basis.
Going off the rails
was my subversive way
of keeping things
under control.
and mirages astonished me,
still do.
to hold on to
was my gutted mantra,
hollowed out
to catch void
and the fastest air.
I am learning to chant
a new chant,
one baby verse at a time,
slowed to where language
stumbles upon the earth
in my mouth
and above my head,
where ground is rent
to meet heaven
on its own shifting terms.




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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5 Responses to Shift

  1. Sounds like a perfect change of pace


  2. This is gorgeous, and a profound expression of something a lot of people could relate to.


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