Author Archives: John Biscello

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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.

To Whom It May Concern

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

The letters ran together, a blur, and vicious assembly, which forced her to comprehend an absence, with no prints to register. #33 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Torch Song

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

Some women waited for men to light their cigarettes for them but never her— she, the one who netted her own desire, and blatantly committed a most lovely heresy by balancing a small piece of the moon on her fingertips … Continue reading →

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Losing my Religion

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

It began, innocently, with the allure of velvet-dark and musky incense, then it became something else, or she did, a girl with a ribbed dream-life, in which she and God found each other, spread severely thin upon the wetted meshes … Continue reading →

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Photograph

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

Where was I then, or better yet, who? All night long I listen to the edges of old photographs brushing against the delicate contours of memory, and thank god for windows and doors. #30 from Untitled Film Poems Image by … Continue reading →

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In Her Solitude

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

Chafing, with matted scales of light, became the cinematic measures by which her solitude was visaged and defined. #29 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Dim

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

There is a tiredness which sleep cannot cure; there is a life, undimmed, surging unprotected beyond these walls. #28 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Stalking

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

To become a vagrant to the territory of one’s own self, requires the right kind of corridor, an elliptical sense of fugue, and footfalls which softly echo a stalker’s unmitigated pursuit. #27-B from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Moonshine

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

It had been a night to forget, many were. She blamed the moon, because it was there, a mocking bauble belonging to someone else’s idea of munificent and festive. The scraping at the back of her brain would stop any … Continue reading →

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Deposed

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

It was a wrong turn, modeling a cobbled geography of hell, that led her down and away from the sorceress she had been once upon a time in someone else’s kingdom of rape and vampires. #26 from Untitled Film Poems … Continue reading →

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Travel Plans

Posted on October 6, 2020 by John Biscello

Had she done the right thing? And by right thing what or whose standards was she applying to measure the moral correctness or lack thereof of what she had done? She had grown sick and tired of considering every angle … Continue reading →

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