Category Archives: Artwork

Tinder

Posted on June 9, 2016 by John Biscello

In this lighted instance, a storm-watch of gold bearing the heft of silence and time, slowed. Blue shoulders the collapse of heaven, it is the Atlas underlay, the muscle cloud formation. When the painter dies, this tindered vault will inherit … Continue reading →

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Flint

Posted on June 8, 2016 by John Biscello

A scissored valentine walked into a hard case. The floor, a silent witness, held its tongue. It was one of those Sundays that was acting like a Tuesday. Scrambled eggs, jazz, and a wet book of matches. This wasn’t going … Continue reading →

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Peter Parker’s Blues

Posted on June 3, 2016 by John Biscello

As a kid I wanted to be you. Swinging, from building to building, across the cityscape, sticking to walls with velcroed hands and feet, no fear of falling, no Icarus complex crippling your confidence in upward mobility.

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Woman Draped in Yellow

Posted on May 24, 2016 by John Biscello

In a state of honeyed repose, her flightless body, a constellation, draped in the sheer cloth of sunlight, as she models hidden grief to witnesses unseen by common sight.

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Van Gogh, Wheat Field

Posted on May 18, 2016 by John Biscello

It is what you might call omen-brushed yellow, a virulent scare, its quotient graded just below dark, and subtly so. A sky raining crows, like a scandal of mustaches, or handlebar dissent. Yellow crosses daring a blight, or braving a … Continue reading →

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Banana: Love, Andy

Posted on May 17, 2016 by John Biscello

A religious protuberance, a monkey’s Marxist gag. To be eaten, to be peddled, to be inserted or diagnosed, a digestible comic device, precursor to aerial pies and throwaway wives. Banana. As a word, it teases and amuses, does not take … Continue reading →

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Flicker

Posted on May 16, 2016 by John Biscello

(In response to Josef Sudek’s “Morning Viaducts”) Can you hear, the cobbled morning streets gathering in thick coarse hands the staccato clang of hooves and thin gray voices arising from the ghosts of people caught in a sudden sonata? Can … Continue reading →

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Red Herrings, Chinese Whispers

Posted on May 16, 2016 by John Biscello

  Excerpt from my new novel Raking the Dust: Over the next couple of hours we compressed our lives into annotated and selective biographies that we laid on the table, right next to our drinks. That’s how D.J. came to … Continue reading →

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Girl in Yellow Raincoat, and Dog

Posted on May 16, 2016 by John Biscello

The rain, like gospel acid, dissolves and revives in equal measures. Parts of girl and dog, melted, weeping off the shallow cliff of curbside. The girl’s features have been washed away by the storm, yet the embryonic portrait of her … Continue reading →

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O’ Keefe, Yellow Flower

Posted on May 15, 2016 by John Biscello

The sex of yellow, its pealed strife and resin. Or how a specter, a sensual crumple and crepe, butter-tongued, makes time with a pair of honeyed tonsils, coercing a holler, a yodel, aria raging blonde over brood, the Belle’s Seduction, … Continue reading →

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