Author Archives: John Biscello

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About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, novelist, poet, performer, playwright and filmmaker, John Biscello, has lived in the high-desert grunge-wonderland of Taos, New Mexico since 2001. He is the author of six novels, Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, Nocturne Variations, No Man’s Brooklyn, The Last Furies, and No One Dreams in Color; 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 plays have been staged and performed both nationally and internationally.

Breathing Ground for Phoenixes

There are baby phoenixes burning inside my lungs. They want to grow into their deaths and fiery unabated splendor, want to consume the ash-cake coronating their birth-days, which matches abolition to symmetry. I am being asked, no forced to open … Continue reading →

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Shift Happens

Paradigm shifting can kick your ass swift and hard– Thank god for loose change!

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Annotation

Days without margins, merging embryonic fate to slates duly cleared.

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Boundless

The sun rose today and kissed my face all over– Romance knows no bounds.

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This Way In

Between passages, a dark pause to recollect the lighted means home.

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Love and Wonderwheeling in a Time of Corona

I’m not going to lie. From a solipsistic perspective and point of view, it’s been pretty damned sweet. Nowhere to be, no timeclocks clogging and vicegripping the rhythms, movements and pulse of each day’s choiceless unfolding, an unflagging sense of … Continue reading →

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Edge-point

Sometimes, you’ve got to stand at the liminal edge, equal parts trespass and yield, your entire life a fragile ceremony of plunge and arc, respiring within spells of wonder.

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The Way of the Fool

Far from the madding crowd, a whisper called to me, its soft tiny tenterhooks tugging—this way, this way. I followed its invisible trail. Where would it lead? To whom did the whisper, the voice belong? I walked until I saw … Continue reading →

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Visitation Rites

Above all else, (she told me, her smile a glowing sickle) dignity and grace, for each and every soul on this planet, no one above, no one below, and everything I mean everything you truly need to know you’ve already … Continue reading →

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Devotional

Remember me to the ease of light, its pause and passage, we are not long for this earth, which swallows us, and our lovetagged bones, as a matter of natural course and radical recomposition, all the gifts, and hopes unwound … Continue reading →

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