Category Archives: Uncategorized

Draft

Posted on September 16, 2016 by John Biscello

There are no mirrors here, yet everywhere I see myself, a bated draft of furls, each bearing the right to exist, and respire ably.

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Epitaph, the Hidden Diary of an Inner Child

Posted on September 13, 2016 by John Biscello

Today: Bidden by tatters, and gravity’s mutable arc, the palpitations guide me. They are subtle, duly engaged, a milk-slow run of shivers. Bracing the rim, I peer out of cavedark: everything is sudden, color-soaked, a ferocious din and melt, fringed … Continue reading →

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Recall

Posted on September 6, 2016 by John Biscello

It is, I think, the rote platitudes and uniform responses drawn from an armored template or assembly-line gremlin (another day another dollar, same old same old, can’t complain, yea but you’ve got to be realistic) that are the slow malignant … Continue reading →

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Some Kind of Summer

Posted on August 9, 2016 by John Biscello

   J.B., I have to kill someone by the end of summer.    Joe Ninj stated this casually, as if it were a school assignment or project with a deadline.    Five minutes earlier we had been integrated into our … Continue reading →

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Haunt

Posted on July 26, 2016 by John Biscello

Fear, how specters arrive on stilts, in the shadow of their presence, you, diminished, crawl toward s solitary haunt.

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Harbor

Posted on July 26, 2016 by John Biscello

I, on the verge of speaking, when the old woman laid her finger on my lips, and said— Give, and expect nothing in return, and even less than nothing. It is your only chance of getting off this island. Then, … Continue reading →

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Torch Song

Posted on July 7, 2016 by John Biscello

The aureate secrets of silence, stuff stars are made from, and us, cocooned in gauzy slumbers, wink and blink and nod till well-scored we become cinders in a torch song, long-since faded.

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Sunday’s Children

Posted on July 5, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Joe Sorren’s “While the Trucks on the Highway all Howl”) While the trucks on the highway all howl, beneath a milk-bottle sky, Sunday’s children, curious and bulb-headed, lay vigorous claim to Paradise. Non-profit architects, they sit … Continue reading →

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Hide and Seek

Posted on July 4, 2016 by John Biscello

      Ready or not, here I come.    I can still hear my voice calling out, a bright echo in a jagged loop.    Hide and seek was a game we used to play all the time.    At … Continue reading →

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Mass

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “At Church.) jesus christ we applaud your shaded storehouse of yesterday’s cured pulp and no account sins, a meat pack industry at love’s labor’s cost; we, the proud brood of salt and bread, walk … Continue reading →

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