Category Archives: Prose

Neo-Folk

Posted on September 3, 2026 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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Plight Trajectory

Posted on September 3, 2026 by John Biscello

Youth passes in fleeting doses, and doesn’t die a single death, youth as concept and cheat code disassembles into ghosts, into many ghosts which proliferate and spread, in pursuit of seances and possession. Youth, in its death, moves in many … Continue reading →

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Scraps

Posted on September 3, 2026 by John Biscello

Memories keep us in a state of cinematic dismemberment. Spliced ribbons of footage everywhere. Identity diced and chopped. Fractures and fragments become us in motivating assembly. We are always puzzling together aspects of our lives in dimly lit corridors, in … Continue reading →

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Audio Book Giveaway

Posted on September 1, 2026 by John Biscello

It’s Tune In Tuesday: in conjunction with Audiobooks.com, we are giving away five free audio-books of The Last Furies. If you request an audio-book, we will provide the code to redeem your edition. We just ask that you post a … Continue reading →

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For Page and Screen

Posted on August 8, 2026 by John Biscello

It was fun having an in-depth conversation on craft, creative process, and the writing life in For Page and Screen’s Summer Interview Series.

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Morphic Trespass

Posted on August 5, 2026 by John Biscello

New vinyl has officially dropped.The back story goes like this:  Musician, Ben Wright, and I, played together for many years, at many venues and gigs, performing our eclectic bop and groove fusion of spoken word and bass (occasionally accompanied by drums, … Continue reading →

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World of Blue

Posted on May 21, 2026 by John Biscello

It was autumn, or late summer. She existed more than half her waking life in the coat-room she called home. At this palace of a department store—she, the coat-check girl, I, the elevator guy. It was a long time ago. … Continue reading →

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In a World of Blue

Posted on May 21, 2026 by John Biscello

It was autumn, or late summer. We met in the coat-room she called home for half her waking life. She, the coat-check girl, I, the elevator guy. We didn’t see ourselves as past-due or endangered then, but now, upon reflection… … Continue reading →

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As if Ghosts

Posted on May 16, 2026 by John Biscello

She, as in ghosts, as in white-hot incubi with a seductive glassy not there stare, it bewitches and allures, bears melancholy freighted with scraped knees and mirror shards. There is a lucid unblinking poise, calculated reserve composed of crystal and … Continue reading →

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Eyes

Posted on May 13, 2026 by John Biscello

I could not stare into anyone’s eyes too long. It was like staring openly at the sun. The light was too much to bear. Not to mention, within the stunning field of light projected from eyes were congealed specks and … Continue reading →

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