Tag Archives: cindy sherman

Water Baby

Posted on October 9, 2020 by John Biscello

As a child, they had tried to scare her with stories of Jaws, and other undersea dangers. Her mother wanted her to be safe, which meant keeping her as close to shore as possible. Now, out there, alone, bobbing, she … Continue reading →

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Breathing Lessons

Posted on October 9, 2020 by John Biscello

Goggles refract light was the first lesson she learned. How to breathe underwater with no apparatus was the second which enabled a lucid surrogate life below the surface. #45 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Transience

Posted on October 9, 2020 by John Biscello

She never did go anywhere, you know? Some ghosts become totemic stand-bys for the lives they never lived, for potentialties that passed, in solemn wisp, from dream to dream, then fade. #44 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Endangered

Posted on October 8, 2020 by John Biscello

All the maidens had gone extinct. The debutantes too. She found herself in this place, alone, a Bardo stage set for a film that would never be made about women who scorched revolution into the earth while kneading forgiveness, for … Continue reading →

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Faith

Posted on October 8, 2020 by John Biscello

She believed there was a place for her,  a venerated quarry, or wedge of corner, somewhere that wouldn’t be overlooked by the gossamer sentience of light falling. #42 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Pin-Up

Posted on October 8, 2020 by John Biscello

Cased in lucid glare she modeled herself as a pin-up sacrifice to the ribbed shadows that dyed her silence. #41 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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If Only

Posted on October 8, 2020 by John Biscello

She turned, obliquely, to reframe her perspective— Maybe one last chance? #40 from Untitled Film Poems Image by Cindy Sherman

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Daisy-Chain

Posted on October 8, 2020 by John Biscello

Everything dissolved anyway, was how she consoled herself. She would do something, she would plant yellow daisies in the garden first thing tomorrow morning, yellow seemed appropriate, yes, even though the idea of morning seemed far-off and left her feeling … Continue reading →

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Plot Twist

Posted on October 8, 2020 by John Biscello

As if in a dream, or mottled gloam, she found herself bailing on the small needy child with grotesquely long tapered fingers– she found herself leaving home to an unmarked plot and its numberless ghosts. #38 from Untitled Film Poems … Continue reading →

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What We Lie About When We Lie About Love

Posted on October 7, 2020 by John Biscello

A getaway, he had reasoned brightly, it will be good for us, give us a chance to reconnect. Why did everything he said always sound perfectly rehearsed, a conviction born of rote directive? Was it the way he spoke, the … Continue reading →

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