Mouth

That mouth,
I remember,
an evocative nursery
of lost things,
a fierce swallower
of galactic bulbs
and starburned roots,
it took in so much,
didn’t it?
announcing to the belly’s
slowchurning greenfire,
to the lips bluequiver icegarden
riot,
I am Memory
upon which you feed
and source,
remember me to my
my most violent pink
and dying suns,
remember me to the words
which have yet to come
and spell you
out
in sheerest hymns.

 

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About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, performer, and playwright, John Biscello, has lived in the high-desert grunge-wonderland of Taos, New Mexico since 2001. He is the author of four novels, Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, Nocturne Variations, and No Man’s Brooklyn; a collection of stories, Freeze Tag, two poetry collections, Arclight and Moonglow on Mercy Street; and a fable, The Jackdaw and the Doll, illustrated by Izumi Yokoyama. He also adapted classic fables, which were paired with the vintage illustrations of artist, Paul Bransom, for the collection: Once Upon a Time, Classic Fables Reimagined. His produced, full-length plays include: LOBSTERS ON ICE, ADAGIO FOR STRAYS, THE BEST MEDICINE, ZEITGEIST, U.S.A., and WEREWOLVES DON’T WALTZ.
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7 Responses to Mouth

  1. Remember me to words which have yet to come. I love that

    Liked by 1 person

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