The deep bass drum
of laughter,
a resounding prayer,
no more forgetting
who I am,
the well of memory
has been stirred,
and my bones,
in turn,
have been dared to splinter,
the cracks between worlds,
widening, inviting me
to overdose on dusk,
and kiss the dew-slipped
of all the fresh flowers
from my dawnstruck
and desire
to undress light,
one honeycombed shimmer
at a time.









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 johnbiscello.blogspot.com. Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale was named Underground Book Reviews 2014 Book of the Year.
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2 Responses to Honeycomb

  1. One honeycombed shimmer at a time. 😍 I love that
    With my Pac-Man eyes


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