Category Archives: Prose

Time and How It Got That Way

Posted on October 9, 2026 by John Biscello

Old folks bend over backwards to become curious children again breathing in the sepia fragrance of roses long since dead and revived nightly to bless time’s testing of reaping to sow.

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Ghostbusters

Posted on October 9, 2026 by John Biscello

Memories engage cosplay in the dark, in darkened rooms. Who are all these strangers? Where did they come from? Why do they feel so familiar? The guests are all ghosts, cosplay specters, and they mingled with you in such an … Continue reading →

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Angels Rated R

Posted on October 9, 2026 by John Biscello

Memories keep us in a state of cinematic dismemberment. Spliced ribbons of footage on the cutting room floor. Identity sliced and diced and chopped. Fractures and fragments become us in motivating assembly. We are always puzzling together aspects of self … Continue reading →

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What Should I Wear Tonight?

Posted on October 9, 2026 by John Biscello

Memory as a course charted, as grooves engraved into void through perennial retreading. Have I been here before can be replaced by have I been here again? It is part of the unflagging tease and conundrum of endless. Ask yourself—have … Continue reading →

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Morphic Trespass (Digital Edition)

Posted on October 9, 2026 by John Biscello

A digital edition of Morphic Trespass has just been released (joining the vinyl and CD versions). For those interested in purchasing: https://losttelegrampress.ca/product/morphic-trespass-digital-download A collaboration between John Biscello (spoken word) and Ben Wright (stand-up bass). The album features sixteen tracks, ranging in … Continue reading →

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We Are Ugly But We Have the Music

Posted on October 8, 2026 by John Biscello
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Titanic

Posted on October 8, 2026 by John Biscello
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Variations on a Theme

Posted on October 8, 2026 by John Biscello

Memory as cosplay in a dark room. Others cosplay with you, perpetuating a game and masquerade, rituals membered, by which we find ourselves assuming patterns and assimilating forms. Alone, again alone, and at once alone, where others, and their penchant … Continue reading →

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Last Picture Show

Posted on October 8, 2026 by John Biscello

Does time-resin sting our eyes? Does desolation call forth our most solitary angels? Our loneliest most homesick angels? Desolation allows one to become a vagrant, rooted in blessed nobody, divergently attuned to an original script. The wind writes in the … Continue reading →

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Vampires

Posted on October 8, 2026 by John Biscello

I walked to the train station at night. I was going to drive. It was a hot day. I had already been walking out in the sun, and I thought—just drive to the train station. But when it was time … Continue reading →

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