Night at the Opera

At first there was darkness, and there had always been darkness.
Then the stars turned on.
And music played, as if silky notes drifting through a night-cloth dome of windows,
and in this way wonder entered the scene.
Wonder mated with music and seeded people.
People would go on to forget their original parents, but would long to return
to this mysterious unknown, this insoluble home.
There would be that tenderly agonized longing, that homesickness,
and there would also be the deepdown knowing
that emptiness knew the score, i.e., that they, the people,
are made up of so much more of what they are are not
than of what they are, or think themselves to be.
The whole thing was an opera, a fretted fiasco,
with the recording of a mute fat soprano
playing in the background.

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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