Category Archives: Poetry

Bela Tarr

Posted on January 6, 2026 by John Biscello

A nod and farewell to master Hungarian auteur, Bela Tarr (July 21st 1955 to January 6th 2026) who brought the barbiturate art of “slow cinema” to a whole other level of gravity and existential molasses. His seven-and-a-half hour magnum opus … Continue reading →

Posted in Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

After Hours

Posted on December 22, 2025 by John Biscello

   Lenny Bruce, seated on a rickety stool, cigarette dangling from his lips, slumping forward, shoulders slack. His mouth puckers, jumping his cigarette to attention, as he draws in fiercely, then exhales a series of bluish halos that float and … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Brief History of Love

Posted on December 22, 2025 by John Biscello

Here, her mother said, pressing something into her palm.    A phantom tack. A concentrated pinch. Something sharp breaking skin and spreading heat.    She looked down. Her palm now tattooed with a tangle of dark glyphs, a concert of … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Zuzu’s Petals

Posted on December 21, 2025 by John Biscello

A father’s pocket, containing secret petals— the meaning of love.

Posted in Artwork, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hymn

Posted on December 21, 2025 by John Biscello

We are here, but briefly,shadows of candle-lightdancing between dust and choir,day and night,so consider todaya good dayto begin, or to continueunwrapping yourself,and giving you to you as a gift,your soul rightfully taggedas both receiver and sender,in what constitutesa wild embracing … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

What We Talk About When We Talk About Time

Posted on December 19, 2025 by John Biscello

1.    The hem of her dress had caught his eye.    Yours was an eye waiting to be caught, she’d say, later, much later, a drizzle of girlishness in her voice.    The dress was a form-fitting red dress … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Way Station

Posted on December 19, 2025 by John Biscello

   I am waiting. There I am, see me, waiting on the train station platform. I am waiting for my train. It is a specific train that I am waiting for. When a train begins pulling into the station, I … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Event Horizon

Posted on December 18, 2025 by John Biscello

Two upcoming events in Los Angeles for The Last Furies. The weekend literary mini-tour will include: Sat., January 17th at 7pm at Reverie Bookstand (1519 W. Sunset Blvd) Sun., January 18th at 2pm at Lucky 13 Micro-Gallery (391 Coronado Ave., … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Theater, Uncategorized, Video | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Matroyshka

Posted on December 16, 2025 by John Biscello

   He often reflected, while writing, upon himself, writing: reflecting another. Who he was, who he was not. Absence and presence locked in intimate simultaneity, a cogent pairing. Who is this Other, writing? And does he reflect upon me? Why … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Crumbs

Posted on December 16, 2025 by John Biscello

   That’s him , yeah. That’s right, every day, from late morning to dusk, he sits on that bench and waits for her. I don’t know who she was. His love who left him. Or died. Disappeared. There are all … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment