Marianne

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello
marianne-cat-hyrdra
A rocking chair stilled,
white on white, burning, no sound–
So long, Marianne.
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Silhouette

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello
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Baring
a life sentence
of notes and text,
the steady bow
executes
its awful rowing
toward God
in marginal silhouette.
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Piety

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello
index
By piety’s standard,
a radiant guise,
refracting the levels
and measures of a true mirror–
woman, man, silence,
choir.
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Crumbs

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello
dolly
On a moonless night,
portrait of an inner child–
follow the bread crumbs.
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Music

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello
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Sometimes, when alone,
and faced with the prospect of music
as a savior,
the choice between which record to play
means all the difference in the world
in getting through a day
in a life
ordered to meet
someone else’s standards.
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Vintage

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello
ANNAMAE JOSIE 2
Brooklyn, 1957,
shotgun postcard
glory and grain of
bygone, brick-backed, bathing-capped
great aunts I never knew,
Josie and Anna-Mae,
sirens modeling sass and moxie
on a hot summer’s day
before the sun went down.
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Enclosure

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello
angel_of_grief_ii_by_damainnero-d591b3c
She has held
this position
of constant sorrow
for millennia,
ennobling the grief
of sundered hearts
too human to bear
openly.
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Lady Lazarus

Posted on August 14, 2017 by John Biscello
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By the palm’s
raised standard
of root and stigmata,
the dawn’s filtrating spread
of light and volume
give new breath
to the legend
of Lady Lazarus
reborn.
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Salt in our Wounds

Posted on August 13, 2017 by John Biscello
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The Morton Salt Girl,
refashioned in atomic yellow
with a lavender dome of defense;
a 21st century nod
to flagrant fall-out
and downpour that burns.
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Plaything

Posted on August 13, 2017 by John Biscello
89-182
Mattel’s secret fetish,
Barbie’s hooded twin, exposed–
news at eleven.
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