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Posted on April 10, 2018 by John Biscello

The lushest red rose, a fragile torch passed, to grace whatever comes next.

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Sacrament

Posted on April 10, 2018 by John Biscello

The tenderest shoots, she offered as nuptials– Blood, green to the touch.    

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instagrammatika

Posted on April 9, 2018 by John Biscello

it’s a new world a small world after all lowercase no-scroll instapoems & screenshot epistles taking you over the moon and on the road and back again in one fell lyrical swoop just in time for another poem about sublime … Continue reading →

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Anne Sexton

Posted on April 9, 2018 by John Biscello

It begins with a stopwatch, and a glass of water. The stopwatch belonged to her father, or to her father’s father. The glass of water is a joke. Imagine trying to remedy all that desert within, all that scabbing red … Continue reading →

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John Fante

Posted on April 8, 2018 by John Biscello

Inferiority might have been your first memory. Though you were born on American soil, Denver, CO, April 8th, 1909, the chinked chains of immigration had you by the throat and bowels, pinched your nerves as you butted your head against … Continue reading →

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Joan of Arc

Posted on April 6, 2018 by John Biscello

Enlightened, perhaps. God-engorged hormones, maybe. Regardless of why, Joan, you were the rebel prototype long before James Dean zipped up a red jacket, or Marlon Brando mumbled and curled his upperlip into a totem, before Louise Brooks and Josephine Baker … Continue reading →

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Denis Johnson’s Sea Maiden

Posted on April 5, 2018 by John Biscello

Review of Denis Johnson’s The Largesse of the Sea Maiden appearing in Riot Material. “Picture the sibilant music of blood-red sand shifting from one bulbous half of the hourglass to the other. Or black-and-white film footage, bearing a scarred geography … Continue reading →

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Sylvia Plath

Posted on April 4, 2018 by John Biscello

To be a mother, and to double as a dark sorceress, a cleaver of dried bones, could not have been easy. Especially in the 1950s. They burned witches then, as well as reds and blacks and faggots, and other things … Continue reading →

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Growing Young

Posted on April 2, 2018 by John Biscello

I want to grow young with you, she said. It made perfect sense. People had it all wrong. You don’t grow old, your body, this borrowed vessel, it withers and ages and decays, your body grows old, your brain grows … Continue reading →

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Product Placement

Posted on April 2, 2018 by John Biscello

NovelTease Literary Panties, Designed for the Well-Read Woman, Who Desires the Company of Her Favorite Writer, Between Her Legs, Snugly.

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