Category Archives: Prose

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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Chronicles

Posted on May 13, 2026 by John Biscello

What is it we’ve done? What is it you’ve done? Mark it down. Make an inventory of jottings that concretize and confirm your fleeting form of being. How did you wake? What was it like sleeping? These happenings these adventures … Continue reading →

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Monkeys

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

Monkeys in a dark room, the darkness reeking of lice and mold, the only light coming from the beaconing cherry glow of the cigarettes sticking out of the monkeys’ humpty-hump mouths, typewriters thrill the silence with cacophonous clacking, each and … Continue reading →

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Slow Burn

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

Slow burn opens us up to possibilities. It is a birthing method. Slow burn brings with it the feels and the feels sets off vibrato trembles in our bones and deepdown. We bugleforth blessings. A long sentence begets slow burn. … Continue reading →

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Lost and Found

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

Who lost, what found? What lost, who found? The world is an endless complex of lost and found. You lose dead skin. Hair follicles take to the sky in ghostly wisps. You excrete today’s breakfast, you ingest animal fat and … Continue reading →

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Here and There

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

I am here while I went there. Both things are true. Physically you walked to a place, a tangible and specific location, while mentally and psychically you went elsewhere, you traveled to a different, phantasmal, non-location. You can be in … Continue reading →

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