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.

Monkeys and Barrels

Posted on October 6, 2026 by John Biscello

   None of it was going anywhere. It had been a while. Both things were true. Both could be beginnings. So let’s go with both: None of it was going anywhere. It had been a while. I felt like a … Continue reading →

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Sure Shot

Posted on October 6, 2026 by John Biscello

Out here/in here cradling the air. Hugging its hot pissy whatever. Something to hold onto something to grasp. This is maintenance at its most base level. If I let go I will be scooped up again, a helpless dollop in … Continue reading →

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Swimming Lessons

Posted on October 6, 2026 by John Biscello

My mother’s face. The bladed cheekbones, the dancer’s neck, the crowded eyes. What about the rest of her? My mother carried within herself gothic mass, sclerotic and stillborn, the dead child of motherless. Motherless lived inside my mother, beside her. … Continue reading →

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To No End

Posted on October 5, 2026 by John Biscello

I had a decision to make. The world was ending, again. It had ended several times before. To be more accurate: many worlds had ended many times. Anyway, on one hand, there was the imminent end of the world, a … Continue reading →

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Accompanying Tune

Posted on October 5, 2026 by John Biscello

In this mutable and concave room, this purveyor of nimbus and cradle, shapeshifting occurs at a phenomenal rate. The room alters its dimensions, and I in turn am altered. It is reciprocal harmony and symbiotic intimacy. The room is significantly … Continue reading →

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The Life of a Professional Stand-In

Posted on October 2, 2026 by John Biscello

Since I was young I have been seeking permission to exist. This I have sought from a variety of sources. And not just any permission to exist, it had to be formal permission, perhaps an official document, or permission bestowed … Continue reading →

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Mama Said Knock You Out

Posted on October 2, 2026 by John Biscello
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Golgotha Revisited

Posted on October 2, 2026 by John Biscello

Let’s imagine it like this: The man on the cross is not Jesus. The man crucified was a stand-in. A strategic measure. Part of a grand design and plan coordinated by the Twelve Apostles and Jesus. It was an inside … Continue reading →

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The Inner Life of Not Enough

Posted on October 2, 2026 by John Biscello
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Pop Quiz

Posted on October 1, 2026 by John Biscello

It was not enough, never enough. The ghosts were bottomless in their hunger, and legion. This sense of not-enough had plagued and subliminally influenced me for as long as I can remember. Not-enough was the ultimate mindfuck and midwife because … Continue reading →

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