Tag Archives: ghosts

Epilogue

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

We are ghosts haunting our own lives, understanding on the deepest level that there is no beginning and no end. Because we know that, or in spite of knowing that, we wander, we stalk, we pursue. We give names and … Continue reading →

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Daybreak

Posted on November 30, 2025 by John Biscello

We forget vividly. Absence glares and ghosts inwardly, a brutal slate of charged pixels. We find ourselves shrinking and recoiling in the hospitable siege of light—projecting, wanting, myopic as the day is long. We question ourselves. We are changed. How? … Continue reading →

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Crossroads

Posted on November 26, 2025 by John Biscello

   To say I am standing outside in the cold, the snowblowy cold, hatless, a gray overcoat—this would be a lie, this would be fabricated—as I am sitting inside, in my warm home, at my desk, trying to convince someone … Continue reading →

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Mortuary

Posted on November 14, 2025 by John Biscello

Miko was a singer with her voice in the clouds. They called Miko blue. Occasionally, there would be flashes of red. In the fall, Miko would softly mimic the elegy of leaves and become yellow. She would, in voice and … Continue reading →

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Goblins

Posted on October 27, 2025 by John Biscello
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Manna

Posted on October 14, 2025 by John Biscello

Do not say the thing that is easily said. Say the other, say the nothing, say the silence, say the unsayable, and save yourself (sort of) through the saying. Gold dust wafts down like filigreed motes from a rain-swollen ceiling. … Continue reading →

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Of Place and Haunt

Posted on October 11, 2025 by John Biscello

It was a town caught in the thorny stasis between living and dying, between mortuary and chrysalis. I want to examine why it is I am drawn to places like this, why I always return to this specific feeling of … Continue reading →

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Snaps

Posted on August 10, 2025 by John Biscello

Sneak-pique at some layout specs from my forthcoming novel, The Last Furies (Lost Telegram Press).

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Notation

Posted on April 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Ghosts, in lucid drag, bare to the drifts and unerring grace of realms unending— we, in human-rent shape, exercise particles in a quantum plot of recall and dramatic flair— these mortal coils, shed, in frets and arpeggios, scale by scale, … Continue reading →

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Pilgrimage of the I

Posted on April 1, 2025 by John Biscello

A hatless pilgrim, roving this way and that, a man embodying the virtues of scat (in every sense of the word), wandering through starched cardstock fields in search of an impossible flower and its stingy nettles— proud, pistil-engraved, the flower’s … Continue reading →

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