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.

If God

Posted on October 20, 2022 by John Biscello

We’ve heard rumors that God doesn’t know he exists. She exists. It. Whatever the gender or genderless you get the picture. God doesn’t know there is such thing as God that he is this thing we call God this blessed … Continue reading →

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Where We Played

Posted on October 20, 2022 by John Biscello

You must remember this: the force of all things moving commingled with the ephemera of all things passing. This the spell the grail the gist of what I am after which is also after me. The stalker stalked while pursuing. … Continue reading →

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Echoes Extended

Posted on October 19, 2022 by John Biscello

Grief attends to the bones. And does so listening to the spaces between the hollows where the ghosts are held hissing where loss compounded by fractures gives rise to near distant voices crying out on behalf of all that’s gone … Continue reading →

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Process of Echoes

Posted on October 19, 2022 by John Biscello

Grief attends to the bones. And does so listening to the spaces between the hollows where the ghosts are held hissing where loss compounded by fractures gives rise to near distant voices crying out on behalf of all that’s gone … Continue reading →

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Reform

Posted on October 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Out here we fast on slimming heaps of gratitude. None of us are greedy. Everyone gets their helpings. We chow down on gratitude and then pass it along making sure everyone gets their fill. Gratitude has become our beef stock … Continue reading →

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Lot

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

We are out here on all fours panting in the sun the bleary merciless maraschino sun burning us. It has been a long while one of those spells that feels foreverish out here in these fields unseen dreaming of god … Continue reading →

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Near to Edges

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Words meant to be read aloud inside your head. A paradox yes but true. To be read aloud inside your head could be the preface the header the suggestion accompanying the texts. In this respect you may hear the music. … Continue reading →

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Proofs

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Once upon a time is a necessary mirage. Flesh born of word and bones fulfilling myth. Stories are the means to endlessness. They go on and on. We go on and on carried along by stories carrying within them the … Continue reading →

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Dawn

Posted on October 16, 2022 by John Biscello

Between lisping partitions of rain we ache. We long. It has been called this mortal longing this calculation of histories of distances. We seek the symmetries of lost hours in threads of rain falling graying glaring we reach between to … Continue reading →

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Fade

Posted on October 16, 2022 by John Biscello

It has been called this mortal longing and we have all hailed there all ached there swearing. Between lisping partitions of rain we seek phantom threads blue gray promising to guide us down unmarked roads to deepening distances. Seeking being … Continue reading →

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