Sight-Line

Posted on August 9, 2019 by John Biscello
Cindy #1
After watching
the bruised legacy of her childhood
pass her by
out of the corner of her eye,
she had developed
an astigmatism
which, in effect,
bred her glaring suspicion
of distance,
and violent need of its diffuse
edges.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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The Movie You Didn’t See

Posted on August 8, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy #66
Superimposed
onto a world
which left her
mute,
wondering how
and why,
she sought
out a base template
through which her blues
could be projected
from a distance
softly near to sublime.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)

 

 

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The Soloist

Posted on August 8, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy #64
Kettled
by mass
and slow-building
infinity
solitude
begs nothing
of stone
and receives
a woman
through to which
to flesh out
its lasting hymn
and testament.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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Under Pressure

Posted on August 8, 2019 by John Biscello

cindy #65

As the steps
narrowed toward
a terrible
totemic infinity
she realized that
foreboding
hailed
from a gothic lineage
backlit
by a fathomless source.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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New York, I Love You

Posted on August 8, 2019 by John Biscello
Recent series of city-haunted photos by street photographer, Anthony Distefano.

 

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Turn Signal

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy #59
The hidden symmetry
in going
is that its patterns
don’t reveal themselves
until hindsight
fans out
 and clarifies
the marvels of letting
and perspective.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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A Question of Who

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy 56
It was only now,
after the split
had occurred,
that his exact words
returned to the surface—
I am in love
with the aesthetics
of your sorrow—
and this makes you wonder
how much of you he saw,
how much of you he missed,
and more importantly,
where the hell were you
during this joint crisis
of perception?

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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Cloak and Dagger

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy #55
Some shadows
become women
when no one
is looking.
Consider it
the residual alchemy
of fallout
and mortal longing.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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Among the Missing

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy #54
Bare white knuckles
grazed
her night-bitten lobe
as she turned up
her collar
to the cold
and was seized
with a  grave sense
of how lonely she had been
and how much further
she had to go
to grieve the bated loss
of person or persons
unknown.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)

 

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Still of the Night

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello
cindy #51
It is like
having a piece
of hard existential candy
lodged in your larynx
while all around you
voices demand
the strictest means
of geometry
by which to constellate
your semblance.

 

(Photo by Cindy Sherman)
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