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Author Archives: John Biscello
Visitation Rites
There is no separation, she said. That is such an illusion, the longest-running con-job this side of the moon. Do not believe the shit that comes out of the pipelines of splintered masses. (She knocked on my forehead three times, … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged everything rhymes, fusion 101, interconnection, John Biscello, Poetry, the kiss, visitation rites
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After Hours
Lenny Bruce, seated on a chipped wooden stool, cigarette dangling from his lips, slumping forward, shoulders slack. His mouth puckers, the cigarette jumps to attention, he draws in fiercely, then exhales a series of bluish halos that float and … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged John Biscello, lenny bruce, Prose, purgatory, this is comedy, this is not comedy
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Raising the Bar
Dylan Thomas falls off his barstool in Heaven. Lying on the sawdusty floor, he slurs something about a white horse. And chains, and the sea. God, who gave Lucifer the night off, is tending bar. He comes … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Dylan Thomas, God, Heaven, John Biscello, Lucifer, Prose, story
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Rhyme-Scheme
There is nothing to order or arrange, nothing to worry about. No explanations required. Dry logic and tortured rationale can be set aside. At least for a little while. Try it. You see, everything rhymes in this letterless alphabet of … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged John Biscello, may the force be with you, poem, rhymeplay, word to the mother
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Cask
We are here to marvel, and to grieve, to haunt the liminal edges which find us supremely fragile in our longing.
Surrealism in Paris
Review of Sue Roe’s In Montparnasse: The Emergence of Surrealism in Paris, from Duchamp to Dali A fish rides a bicycle into the Seine. The fish begins to drown and then remembers that it is a fish and starts to … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Books, Press, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized
Tagged art life, John Biscello, montparnasse, paris, Prose, Review, riot material, Surrealism, the left bank
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The Cup Runneth Over
This is a tribute to a coffeeshop, a paean and a love-letter to a place that exists as a staple and sanctuary in the Taos community. By turns, this is also a tribute to the man who owned that coffee … Continue reading
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
