Tag Archives: Light

Little Light of Ours

Posted on May 26, 2026 by John Biscello

In pools of practiced moving distances words labor by light’s traveling standards to take flight and submerge in due riveted course.

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Speakeasy

Posted on May 20, 2026 by John Biscello

They the fable-soaked and sorrowful children of the moon engender shadows if only to bootleg the mercury of departure to trespass lightly.

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Eyes

Posted on May 13, 2026 by John Biscello

I could not stare into anyone’s eyes too long. It was like staring openly at the sun. The light was too much to bear. Not to mention, within the stunning field of light projected from eyes were congealed specks and … Continue reading →

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Two Events

Posted on January 9, 2026 by John Biscello

Upcoming events for The Last Furies on the Left Coast: * Reverie Bookstand (1519 W. Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles), January 17th at 7pm* Lucky 13 Gallery (391 Coronado Avenue, Long Beach), 2pm I will be reading excerpts from the novel, … Continue reading →

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Bare

Posted on April 3, 2025 by John Biscello

Cause to the effect are the children of the revolution of imperishable blooms, nuptial and slant in their trembling offshoots, they beseech, in coded air— By all means necessary, cede to the lasting proof of light tendered to fuse and … Continue reading →

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Some Like It Hot

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Traversing, in a beat shuffle and worn cadence, many oblique side streets and shadow-stained back alleys to arrive at where he now stood— the white-hot lure and rigged bait of a suspect angel, who played hard to get, beckoned with … Continue reading →

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Penumbra

Posted on February 28, 2024 by John Biscello

We practice intimacy in scales, from a near warmed distance— a concentrated swath of light, calling us forth, entreats our internal orphan to find fugitive solace in the softly respiring aura of solitude.

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Play

Posted on February 22, 2024 by John Biscello

I have to imagine her death from every conceivable angle. She has assured me she will disappear, said that dying is a trick of the light, and everyone was enamored of the mirage, convinced, in on it, the gag. When … Continue reading →

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Casanova’s Memoirs

Posted on February 21, 2024 by John Biscello

The weevils chewing through the wall and burrowing into the hollows. Rot sets in. Yet I wake up and the sun is a perfect circle, a ball of fire, a kissing fool’s star. I smile. To hell with the weevils. … Continue reading →

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Touch

Posted on December 21, 2023 by John Biscello

Bleed a sunset until your hands are dyed maraschino, until your palms are scorched. Then go to bed with someone you love. Undress them slowly. When you reach the unoccupied territory of bare skin, allow your hands to caress unremittingly. … Continue reading →

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