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.

Sphinx

Posted on October 2, 2022 by John Biscello

The broken pulsing fingers of rain, cloning time, tap spates of symmetry against my window— This, both cause and effect, upon the glassy passage of hours, dwindling, singing, undeciphered.

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Succulent

Posted on September 23, 2022 by John Biscello

Moonlight is edible. If you don’t believe me watch the mouths of children at night.

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There is No Curtain

Posted on September 23, 2022 by John Biscello

Forever and ever is the asking price and promise the singer made to the song conjugal atomic bliss siring the I that right now is speaking singularly on behalf of the song and singer forever and ever.

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Born Blues

Posted on September 23, 2022 by John Biscello

I am the foster child of rampant insular lyricism. In it I was raised wild and came meekly to regard the moon as a shotgun blast from the mouth of eternity. I, setting core to task, get greedy, rabid, blood … Continue reading →

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If This

Posted on September 23, 2022 by John Biscello

Our destinies are molecular, charged. We gravitate. Toward this and that. Other things. The bond between song and singer is immaculate proof of serviceably attuned you blameless as the blue lighting of the first moment when the multiverse sought seams … Continue reading →

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Tender is the Night

Posted on September 18, 2022 by John Biscello
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Round Trip

Posted on September 14, 2022 by John Biscello

There is a slow lasting burn on the road to heaven which admits meekness as a course of rightful inheritance, as a ringed torch song for reentry into the self dispossessed.

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A Man Walks Into

Posted on August 25, 2022 by John Biscello

   A man walks into a man. He realizes it’s the same man … they’re … the same man. They merge. Naturally. Inviolably. A man walks into a man and a merger occurs.    Who was I before I walked … Continue reading →

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Baffling the Sphinx

Posted on August 14, 2022 by John Biscello

The word is my fourth dimension–Clarice Lispector And on the eighth and endless day, where the bottomless hallelujah meets Ouroboros, God created Clarice Lispector. Maybe. Maybe the music of that name was more pure music and vivid living syntax, and … Continue reading →

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Dust in the Wind

Posted on August 12, 2022 by John Biscello

Much here is caked in dust. Dust-skinned dogs and dust-skinned horses. Dust-coated houses in ruin, the staccato of ruins, the oldlife song of decay, dreams move sluggishly here at the pace of dust, the swirling eddies of dust, dust in … Continue reading →

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