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.

Climate

Her fractures, to mend, begged a lacy run of slowmelt kisses– As above, so below.

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Pearl

She came from the sea, she came to marvel the pearl’s pinkest let to grieve.

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Dryad

Dryad, in velvet bells, platforms, and heart-shaped shades– Boughs, cited to flare.

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Mermaid

Mermaid in torn jeans, sea glistening on her knees- Your myth is safe with me.

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Anais Nin

Invention was your solitude, your twin, wasn’t it, Miss Nin? The way you spread secret pages like silk violet capes, like fringed shawls, over an air of mystery, and err of desire. You enabled symmetry, to confess. Why couldn’t a … Continue reading →

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Pagan

Between blades and pines, she lay still, spreading forest to stars that filled her.

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Satyr

I found him, wanting, satyr’s swell of thorny play– fondling fresh, green grass.

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Claim

Some kind of tender, hard to find its truest name– words fail to claim touch.

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Henry Miller

Some men rattle their chains and wonder, some sing them. Then there are others who spraypaint their chains rainbow siege and dance a jig like a peacock on fire, and when someone asks Isn’t it hard to dance around with … Continue reading →

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Fete

Coercion, tendered through soft vowels, falling, fingers like mouths, hold air, on the feted cusp.

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