Category Archives: Artwork

The Last Laugh

Posted on May 26, 2017 by John Biscello

After having rejected him night after night, in what had become an agonized shtick and ritual of unrequited love, Colombine turned away  one last time, Pierrot’s parting gag performed for a backwoods audience of trees, grass, air, and a moon, … Continue reading →

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Blue

Posted on May 25, 2017 by John Biscello

They, without words, have agreed to model the sea, to mimic its waves by air, blue and heat, fasting symmetry with intent to respire and please.

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Flight Pattern

Posted on May 25, 2017 by John Biscello

He has peopled the world outside his window with decoys and delegates. They go where he cannot, they climb and scrabble and perch where he can only watch. The cage, you see, is more than just a symbolic prop. He … Continue reading →

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A Small Thing

Posted on May 24, 2017 by John Biscello

It is a small thing, small matter, and yet, magnificent, profound, terrifying, yes, terrifying. She is now responsible for this thing, this love, her love has assumed a shape, a form, and it lies there, sleeping, not too far removed from … Continue reading →

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Volume by White

Posted on May 23, 2017 by John Biscello

The staggered trajectory of the cicada’s voiceprints, a slow clean fade into reprieve and lasting fugue.

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TV

Posted on May 21, 2017 by John Biscello

Light, a beacon in a fish-bowl. It was the only channel Bobby received at night after his parents went to sleep, after his vision adjusted to the warning signals arraigned in silence.

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The Chairs

Posted on May 21, 2017 by John Biscello

Stiff-spined, hammer-headed, squat-bottomed, rubble-flecked alternates to the chairs that once stilled motion and held human life; the people lost, the flights canceled, the chairs a stirring musical memory, a ghostly paean to the dashed dreams of a grave new world, … Continue reading →

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Mannequin

Posted on May 19, 2017 by John Biscello

After countless years of mind-numbing routine, strolling up and down the avenue where she shopped for groceries and clothing and listlessly scavenged storefront windows with vicarious pleasure, on October 13th the housewife experienced a foreign sensation, astonishment, freighted with terror, … Continue reading →

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Fallout

Posted on May 18, 2017 by John Biscello

The Rorschach pulse of ink in the ruptured veins of cityscape– angels, disguised as fallout, move unnoticed through an inherited smear campaign.

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Boy

Posted on May 17, 2017 by John Biscello

At the time he didn’t know it, but stalking the radiant specter of morninglight as he sprinted down a cobbled alley, he left part of himself behind in a jigsaw piece of puddle that later, years later, he would reflect … Continue reading →

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