Author Archives: John Biscello

Unknown's avatar

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.

Nocturne’s Launch

Posted on December 18, 2018 by John Biscello

So grateful for the gathering of people who became a part of the magical and inspired launch of Nocturne Variations, and in the gracelighted eternal words of the Little Prince: “What is essential is invisible to the eye, it is … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Can You Dig It?

Posted on December 18, 2018 by John Biscello

So many souls as buried cathedrals yet look closely and even the barest hint of broken spire peeking out from beneath the rubble and tomb-swell will tell you that an elaborate structure of magnificence and wonder is waiting to be … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

What If?

Posted on December 18, 2018 by John Biscello

What is imagination but a continual granting of permission-to-self to free-associate beyond constraints, blockages and moral codes, to bob and float, weave and flow, in a wine-dark sea of dreams, to riff like a muthafucka whose fleabitten firepants are down … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Boy and Girl

Posted on December 16, 2018 by John Biscello

   I remember the time, Anya, when my mother asked about you and me. I was thirteen. My mother’s sickness was in its early stages. She had already turned the couch in the living-room into her sickbed. She hated lying … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Timeshare

Posted on December 16, 2018 by John Biscello

It is scary once you realize that the past can be changed, and that the future is fixed, a rigged absolute. Knowing that changes everything. And what about the present? For some the present is intolerable cruelty, unimpeachable company. For … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ghostfeed

Posted on December 16, 2018 by John Biscello

It’s tough to always be in love with a ghost. Also it’s easy. The living don’t stand a chance against ghosts. In loving ghosts there are no real complications, no real disappointments, no real anything. There’s lots of teething on … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Anya Rising

Posted on December 16, 2018 by John Biscello

Except from No Man’s Brooklyn:    I see her rising off the bathroom tiles, toes pointing downward.    I know this is a dream but I also know this actually happened, once, a long time ago.    Except then Anya … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Review of Nocturne

Posted on December 13, 2018 by John Biscello

Johanna Debiase’s review of Nocturne Variations, appearing in the Taos News. “John Biscello’s newest novel, Nocturne Variations, is exactly what the title promises, a dreamy narrative landscape bursting with a lyrical kaleidoscope of sights, sounds and perspectives. The reader is … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, Press, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Promontory

Posted on December 12, 2018 by John Biscello

I, perched on a craggy promontory overlooking my childhood, and its entire formless geography, saw them, my friends, all of them: a mutant strain of cryogeny, a mummified quivering changelessness, as if youth hadn’t been lived through but pickled. It … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Distance

Posted on December 12, 2018 by John Biscello

 People have called it the glow, the click, the hum, and for every abnormal drinker, for every addict, you are willing trade in everything for what amounts to a rigged facsimile of eternity. It is the sort of false eternity … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment