Romanticism 101

If I were there
right there
goggle-eyed and flame-pawed
between her legs
and she began secreting
the deepest most lucid mirrors
and glaze of honey
waft of orange blossoms crushed
and enmeshed in heavy musk
would that appease my hunger
or produce even greater insatiable longing?
oh Romanticism
you thorn-hormonal
child of the stars
you swollen pink infant
with sharp teeth and claws
the dead-end crossroads
leading to heaven
to hell
to nowhere at all
simply an empty lay
of space
where one can burn away the present
with restless questing
to herd God’s choir of tongues
into something singular and pronounced
or to claim Her secret fire
in things like honey
mirroring the likeness of desire
to its own bubbling fount.


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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1 Response to Romanticism 101

  1. Beautifully sensual.

    Liked by 1 person

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