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Meta
Faust
In what historically qualified
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Cinema, cubism, deconstructive, faust, John Biscello, member, new wave, Poetry
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Spool
Quartered
and dissected
in a recursive plunge,
she, the candy striped
It girl,
fell from overexposed
grace
into a
fractious spool
of lost prints
unclaimed.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged celluloid, Cinema, Edie Sedgwick, film, image, john, pop culture, recursion, warhol
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Overexposed
It is hard to see
the man and woman
overexposed
in the milkbath of light,
but allegedly this photo
captures Adam and Eve
right after Eden dissolved
and Eve was mysteriously
knocked up.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged adam, eden, eve, exposure, John Biscello, photography, pregnancy, sex
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God’s Lectern

Epic announcement
forthcoming
about
commandments to be
scratched onto stone tablets
like Eden acid
jazz
for badland sinners
in nuclear raincoats
(stream: Wholly Moses the remix
on Godify.)
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged art, badlands, bisti badlands, desert, dunes, farmington, God, inspiration, John Biscello, moses
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Breaking Badlands

In the beginning,
there were no words.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged badlands, bisti badlands, clouds, desert, farmington, inspiration, John Biscello, New Mexico, rocks, stones
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Hale
To sharpen one’s teeth
against solvent pages
and grated silence
is the bite in the air
the old poets crowed
about, and the wind
saliently scales,
as if reverse
were a condition
and not Memory
fasting into childhood’s
hale.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged childhood, hale, ink, John Biscello, Literary, pen, Poetry, poets, soul, writing
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Mantra
Hurry Slowly
was the tictoc mantra
of the one-armed photographer,
Josef Sudek, who praised
and made lasting secret love
to his Muse and ghost-veiled
bride, Prague,
vowing his fugitive eye
to her
and her alone.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged ghost, John Biscello, josef sudek, mood, photography, Poetry, prague, streetlamp
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Yes
It is those,
in writing,
who quietly
almost sublimely
say fuck you
& yes
while trafficking,
with fierce row,
in silence
whom I most admire.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged amen, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, writers, writing, yes
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Where is He?
On the day I landed
on Asteroid B-9
and wandered around
for a short eternity without
a sighting, I asked the Silence
if it had said seen the Little Prince
to which the Silence responded
not at all.
The Little Prince’s whereabouts remain a mystery.
I am still wandering.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged asteroid, badlands, bisti badlands, desert, John Biscello, Literary, little prince, Poetry, wandering
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Spell

On the day
I was turned to stone
all mirrors were instantly
abolished and silence
became that gilded golden thing
I had heard so much about
and the stillness of time
slowed to a moist chafing
pardon
where I was excused
from the unbearable lightness
of being a human
minding gravity.
Posted in Uncategorized
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