It happens fast,
this life—
the first trembling chapter
of an impending sneeze,
the half-slitted stutter
of a lid’s ambition to wink—
We are, timewise,
less than these things
in the gaugeless cosmic scheme.
And yet beyond these words,
and the person who wrote them
(already he is dead
and gone)
there is love, as a force
and not a shove,
always love
which is not bound to a clock
or the stiff cult of metaphor,
and in the blink of a sneeze,
in the bated stutter of a nostril,
you are there,
breath knowing pure longing
as itself, in a marveled continuum
for migrant souls.
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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.
