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.

Anima

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

A mother’s dollhouse, twinning brother and sister– Hemingway, age two.

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Blade

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

The moon woman bled in shamanic company– blade warm and dripping.

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Legend

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

Summer in Brooklyn, hydrant dreaming in graffiti– legends of childhood.

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Eden

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

No one had suspected that Eden’s true location had been buried and hidden beneath centuries upon sepulchral centuries of death masks and psychic makeovers

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Marianne

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

A rocking chair stilled, white on white, burning, no sound– So long, Marianne.

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Silhouette

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

Baring a life sentence of notes and text, the steady bow executes its awful rowing toward God in marginal silhouette.

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Piety

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello

By piety’s standard, a radiant guise, refracting the levels and measures of a true mirror– woman, man, silence, choir.

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Crumbs

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello

On a moonless night, portrait of an inner child– follow the bread crumbs.

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Music

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello

Sometimes, when alone, and faced with the prospect of music as a savior, the choice between which record to play means all the difference in the world in getting through a day in a life ordered to meet someone else’s … Continue reading →

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Vintage

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello

Brooklyn, 1957, shotgun postcard glory and grain of bygone, brick-backed, bathing-capped great aunts I never knew, Josie and Anna-Mae, sirens modeling sass and moxie on a hot summer’s day before the sun went down.

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