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.

This Dreamed Life

Posted on December 22, 2021 by John Biscello

Remember me to the ease of light, its pause and passage, we are not long for this earth, which swallows us, and our lovetagged bones, as a matter of natural course and radical recomposition, all the gifts, and hopes unwound … Continue reading →

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Seating Arrangement

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

The girl in the chair is no longer the girl in the chair, she is neither here nor there, she is always and forget-me-not, soul-spray and glacial uproar causing a siege, she is the spidery patterns of her exploded heart, … Continue reading →

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Please Sit Down

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

No sitters to tend, solvent to its own winter, if these floors could talk.

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A Star is Born

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Rending the cosmos, to midwife its own star-seed, to papoose night-bloom.

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Chain Reaction

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Night swallowing its own tale of snake swallowing its own tail of night.

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Ties that Bind

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Seven years later, the pupa stage of marriage– Who the hell are you?

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Full Moon Rising

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Howling, to contract space for deeper emptying, to swallow moons whole.

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Crow Medicine

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

How little they know, of her flights beyond reason– Her world, winged, widens.

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Featherweight

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Within the unbearable lightness of love’s proofed labor, a single quill, producing words that sing, traceless, while moving worlds to shake and reckon.

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Driving Lessons

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Hard to move forward, she thought, when bound to what’s gone– She bought new scissors.

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