Category Archives: Poetry

The Search (In Six Parts)

Posted on September 29, 2026 by John Biscello

1. It has been a long, fruitless, and exhaustive search. Finding the dreamer who is dreaming you is damned near impossible. He or she or it is in there somewhere. In where, exactly? In where is the birthplace of existential … Continue reading →

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Mazzy Star

Posted on September 29, 2026 by John Biscello

Many people think the singer is Mazzy Star but the singer is not Mazzy Star. The band is Mazzy Star. The singer is Hope Sandoval. I cannot remember the name of the other half of Mazzy Star, the man who … Continue reading →

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Not Enough

Posted on September 29, 2026 by John Biscello

Not Enough came out of me like a homuncular chunk of greasy green cheese, oozing and bubbling pus that hissed and wheezed. Macro-snot meets goblin. I was taken aback. This had come out of me? How? Where? This had been … Continue reading →

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Freight

Posted on September 28, 2026 by John Biscello

Red notebooks. Blue. Black. Yellow. Never green. I don’t know why not green, maybe some autistic glitch or allergy. Just never green. Over thirty years’ worth of notebooks, in which sketches and impressions have been dutifully registered, recorded, preserved. Mind-breaths … Continue reading →

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Us

Posted on September 28, 2026 by John Biscello

There is something bluntly parenthetical about the ghosts which inhabit memory. And become us, if only in pronouns.

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Turning of the Screw

Posted on September 28, 2026 by John Biscello

Memory as defiant neverland where cryogeny is the norm and no one grows up only inward. We bore into ourselves, screws to a tease.

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Maybe Next Time

Posted on September 28, 2026 by John Biscello

I write as if someone is chasing me. As if I am being stalked. Or running out of time. Since childhood I have written this way, with a sense of heightened and red-hot urgency. There is someone or something behind … Continue reading →

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Torchlight

Posted on September 28, 2026 by John Biscello

She turned longing into a form of religion, effect to the cause of a martyr raised to exact scorch from quenchless tender.

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Hot Coals

Posted on September 25, 2026 by John Biscello

Firespeak sing n swing. This is a mode, a chariot and vehicle of expression. Bardic in its yawping and hot rod in its bebop turbine. Whitman revved it. Coltrane. Kerouac. Ginserg. Bird. Riot, blues and jazz rolled into self-sung nuptials. … Continue reading →

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Window Dressing

Posted on September 25, 2026 by John Biscello

Out the window worlds come in, flashing in doses and quarters  and nickels and slices and geometrical swaths. Out the window is wealthy in examples and suggestions. When looking out the window, when sailing, we become a pair of eyes … Continue reading →

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