Tread Softly

I like them

damaged,

closer to real,

the marrow in the blue void

that seals hymns

airtight,

narrow

interior

dancing

the hips

and thighs

to the gospel

according to arson,

the smolder

and bake

of flame-twisted

wicks,

I like

where the locks

meet the hinges,

and long to binge

on the aches,

to pick out

every piece

of glass

buried

in the annals of skin,

as if the mirror

that shattered

contained both

my history

and theirs,

I trace their annulments

with my fingers

and mouth

and pine

for what’s not there,

I

sign myself

to the ghosts

who swear

by their lives,

a medium’s

happy fetish

for haunting

where strangers

fear to tread.

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.

View all posts by John Biscello →