Category Archives: Poetry

The Upstart Scarecrow

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

(Listen to the spoken word track here.) There he goes um-humh that’s him Willy Shakes the upstart scarecrow and derelict poet of the barrio and bodegas— gin rummy seizures and shaker of visions— hangnail to a scab dude rips it up … Continue reading →

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Trinity

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Beware the airless room, without light, laughter and love, a Trinity beyond reckon, none of it is worth a good goddamn.    

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Sunder

Posted on February 20, 2018 by John Biscello

To leave sheer vowels and sudden clefts upon the warm, dream-wet infinity of skin, so wherever she goes, whenever, sundered verses will marvel as placeholders.

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Coil

Posted on February 20, 2018 by John Biscello

To caper at the edge, where the seething lyric happens, poetry with slits and fast teeth, where the hours of phenomena are boiled and reduced to a single quivering instant, an umbilical knot of light upon tenderest scraps and coils. … Continue reading →

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Slingshot

Posted on February 20, 2018 by John Biscello

From a distance, within, the story of a writer’s life in the day of fiction’s living wake.

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Scripture

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

To be swallowed, wordless, as the worst you always feared turns lighted proof into lasting scripture.

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Ember

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

How a writer, cave-timing dark and solitude, annoints an ember by crafting the small hours into a flagrant torch.

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Wish You Were Here

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

 Send us postcards from your loneliest places, your fault-lines and secret rivets, send us words and we promise not to burn them, we promise that something of the ineffable will stick, as if a lasting thorn in God’s bruised paw.

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Preschool: A Love Story

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

Jilly, aged three, bared her teeth & bit Jack, four, hard on the arm, breaking skin & drawing blood. Stunned, Jack’s baby blues ballooned & gaped at Jilly, bright with malice & glee. Why Jilly why, Jack cried, nursing his … Continue reading →

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If L.L. Cool J. and Sylvia Plath Had Gotten Down

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

Listen to the spoken word track w/ music here. Don’t call it a Comeback— L.L. Cool J. wooing Sylvia Plath in broad daylight where they dance and get crazy theatrical doing the Lazarus (and doing it and doing it well) Sylvia … Continue reading →

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