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.

Obscene not Herded

Destiny, the morningstar, hikes her dress up high and pisses a saberlike stream of light, honeyed pixels outsourcing guidance.

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Naming Desire

Whoever I am, I have always depended on the kindness of words— such strange company these solitary verses.

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Bedsores

In the permanent flophouse Love reigns supreme— A tried and torn migrant ready to drop from chronic fatigue

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i for an I

Dear Letters of the Alphabet, We regret to inform you of the untimely death of one of your brethren, lowercase i. Gone missing a while back, we were hoping for its return to its rightful place in the alphabet, but … Continue reading →

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How-To Manual

Hands reach, instinctively, because they understand what the mind’s fixed gears are sometimes too tight or slow to grasp: the necessity of shrinking distance through first contact, the dream-life of prayers.

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Film Treatment

God in the small details, the Devil in the abstract— in between, Us, the stuff stars are made from, on the cutting room floor.

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The Urban Way

Boy on street corner brown bag in his hand, crinkling– Yo, I’ve gotta piss.

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The Little Emperor

(In memory of Anthony Hassett, and in response to his artwork) I have seen the Little Emperor— mischievous, unabashed, baiting in borrowed skin dong tolling through the marketplace offering his services for a nominal fee. He leads, without words, through … Continue reading →

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Winnie Cooper #9

After all these years I still might use the same technique: tugging on pigtails. A cruel and delightful swing, gaining momentum to vault headfirst into your secret hive, vaguely aware of and interested in honey, but the main draw, your … Continue reading →

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Roseblood

(In response to Tera Muskrat’s “Fiesta at the Siesta”) Homey fingerlock love & pop & play that blue fiddle, that funky music, brown & rightboy, know what ahm sayin–No, eh?–well what ahmn sayin is grace ten times over, 80-proof cuz … Continue reading →

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