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.

Sublime

The mouth, birthing a migrant kiss, begs gravity’s pardon in raising lips to a sublime arc.

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Indelible

To ebb, the startling clarity of a stolen kiss sentenced to null and ghost, to lips indelibly parted then closed.

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Enclosure

Sometimes, it is just a marginal thatch of shadow slivering a cheek, or the rounded vowel of dimple puckering brazenly a bare knee, or the laser surgery performed on my small, fearful history, by a stray, smoldering gaze, it could … Continue reading →

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Bonepick

I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. Whether or not they help is either of primary consequence or none at all. Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard in order to reach the garden. This what I tell … Continue reading →

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Soma

It is, at winter’s finite edge, that we glean the bent, palsied bloom, somatic in its turn toward Spring’s inevitable host.  

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Gauge

If, in words I found you wanting, lean to perish, would silence bestow a second, surer opinion?

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Gist

The manic blush and titter of young love is no serum nor mirage, but rather the gist of bloom martyred so soon to thorns.

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Cherish

This side of dream, to marvel in sheer trespass and longing, to engage the mystery and riot of skin, by touch and flagrant cherish.

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Bask

Rapt, in gratitude, the writer fasting on silence, and slimmest wisps, to gain Beauty’s favor and superlative bask, beyond recognition.  

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First Time, Forever

(Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.)    What are we gonna do with ourselves Daniel?    Like right now?    Like ever. Are you gonna go to college?    I don’t know, but I don’t think so.    Why you’re smart? … Continue reading →

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