Category Archives: photography

Birthing Slivers

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

She came to me when I was a child. Let’s say when I was two, no three. She came to me when I was three. That is me, aged three, centuries ago, someone else’s tears crystallized into this frail pulsing … Continue reading →

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Breathing Lessons

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

In school they taught us how to breathe differently. There were other lessons but this was considered the most important one. We had to learn a new way of breathing. Techniques, exercises: what to do, what not to do. They … Continue reading →

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Bath

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Our destinies are molecular, uniformly bonded, an immaculately charged cluster fuck of singing particles wedded to a liminal bubble bath … that is the beginning … we are not alone. We see god drop the soap, intentionally, perhaps the precursor … Continue reading →

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Storytellers

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Storytellers of different ilks different beats different leaks of internal graffiti yet the word always at the heart of it barrowing out into light what comes from shadowlands within. Stories within earshot as eavesdropped whispers Stories like moonshots catapulted with … Continue reading →

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Walk This Way

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

There is the future. There is other future when tramps ambling shuffle-footed across failed roads, across dust-pecked destinies, along citywalks imitating lizard-toed pigeons, tramps with newspaper hats and brown bag hearts billowing and contracting and reeking of long past lunchrooms, … Continue reading →

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Found Lost

Posted on November 15, 2022 by John Biscello

We recall fondly. We recollect. The good old days in which we titled windmills redolently and rode clanging dusty boxcars across the glaring horizontal spread of america. What a lay we said hitching up our pants sticking our peckers into … Continue reading →

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Watchword

Posted on November 15, 2022 by John Biscello

Grief lies here like an insomniac pining for sleep. Like scissors running dull to the touch of fate. We paper over grief its ruins and brittle slates with hordes of torn pages. Forget me nots band aids christ sporting a … Continue reading →

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Nocturne

Posted on November 15, 2022 by John Biscello

In not so many words I found my wanting voice warming and calling out to you almost. It was going to say things about blues and greens I think in relation to the sea in relation to your eyes. I … Continue reading →

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Give Us This Day

Posted on November 15, 2022 by John Biscello

Everything always going on. People worry about everything not going on but what they’re really saying beneath the waves what they’re subliminally saying and worrying about is them not going on. Everything going on and them not. How to reconcile … Continue reading →

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Belfry

Posted on November 14, 2022 by John Biscello

Make the small your domain. Your belfry for lost hours. Within the small words gather to tremble to sublimate to keep solitude company. Also they become cinema in which you are watching words gather to keep solitude company that being … Continue reading →

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