Amidst divisive riot,
the clear sound of two tears mating
upon the crest of a sunken cheek;
a mother’s grief, near to fasting
and silence, the warmest cross to inherit
in holding the meek inviolate.
Winter’s brides,
wearing long white scarves of sleet and song,
touching pale sky to blue lips,
breathing memory and frost;
their sorrow
and spectral want
grows hands
that enclose me, a robust crush,
matrimonial in its grip,
until I am no more than a whiff of air,
and then, not even that, a traceless speck
unremembered to light,
and how it falls.

Podcast of my short story “The Little People,” featured in the November issue of The Golden Walkman, a “literary magazine for your ears.” Listen here.
Posted in Audio, Press, Prose, Uncategorized
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Tagged Audio, fiction, golden walkman, John Biscello, Literary, literary magazine, podcast, radio, short story
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Channeling the
fire in my throat
to meet my heart’s rising
call, or, how the mating
of arson and grace
breathes new life into
immeasurably just cause.