Monthly Archives: November 2022

Scenes from a Novel

Posted on November 22, 2022 by John Biscello

Text puzzle pieces of a novel in progress, i.e., vagabond fragments seeking dissonant merger with harmonious whole.

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Birthing Slivers

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

She came to me when I was a child. Let’s say when I was two, no three. She came to me when I was three. That is me, aged three, centuries ago, someone else’s tears crystallized into this frail pulsing … Continue reading →

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Our Lady of Dust

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

They taught us dust. Those were our lessons. There were other lessons but allegedly none more important than the lessons in dust the sermons. We dreamed dust. We ate dust. There was dust favoring the sunlight insisting upon the rotting … Continue reading →

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Breathing Lessons

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

In school they taught us how to breathe differently. There were other lessons but this was considered the most important one. We had to learn a new way of breathing. Techniques, exercises: what to do, what not to do. They … Continue reading →

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Bath

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Our destinies are molecular, uniformly bonded, an immaculately charged cluster fuck of singing particles wedded to a liminal bubble bath … that is the beginning … we are not alone. We see god drop the soap, intentionally, perhaps the precursor … Continue reading →

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Doll

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Nineteen rifles and the village was burned to the ground nineteen rifles stolen by rebels and then came the awful burning down what was called scorched earth policy. My mother my father my brother were burned down to the ground … Continue reading →

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Storytellers

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Storytellers of different ilks different beats different leaks of internal graffiti yet the word always at the heart of it barrowing out into light what comes from shadowlands within. Stories within earshot as eavesdropped whispers Stories like moonshots catapulted with … Continue reading →

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Every Always

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

So, to example: There was a tramp both in and out of time, an iconic tramp who is now and always, he is not old never old, not new never new, he is ever and now and always this tramp … Continue reading →

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Time after Time

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

When and where time goes unrecognized there is a beautiful purposeless freeze, the swiftness of eternity so swift there is no race at all, no motion, just music, which is why shakespeare urged one and all to play on, why … Continue reading →

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Prints

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

We slip through our own fingers in bluest forget-me-nots, and keep on slipping wondering where the falling leads. Artwork by Chua Ek Kay

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