Tag Archives: Literary

The Haunting of One’s Self

Posted on March 28, 2017 by John Biscello

Review of Paul Auster’s 4 3 2 1, appearing in Riot Material. “He believed in an infinite series of times, in a growing, dizzying net of divergent, convergent and parallel times. This network of times which approached one another, forked, … Continue reading →

Posted in Press, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged 4 3 2 1, John Biscello, Literary, novel, paul auster, Prose, Review, riot material | Leave a comment

How-To Manual

Posted on March 26, 2017 by John Biscello

Hands reach, instinctively, because they understand what the mind’s fixed gears are sometimes too tight or slow to grasp: the necessity of shrinking distance through first contact, the dream-life of prayers.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged compassion, hands, John Biscello, Literary, poem, Poetry, prayer | Leave a comment

The Urban Way

Posted on March 25, 2017 by John Biscello

Boy on street corner brown bag in his hand, crinkling– Yo, I’ve gotta piss.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Brooklyn, haiku, John Biscello, Literary, New York, Poetry, street corner, urban | 1 Comment

The Little Emperor

Posted on March 24, 2017 by John Biscello

(In memory of Anthony Hassett, and in response to his artwork) I have seen the Little Emperor— mischievous, unabashed, baiting in borrowed skin dong tolling through the marketplace offering his services for a nominal fee. He leads, without words, through … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged anthony hassett, asia, brotherhood, ekphrasis, John Biscello, Literary, little emperor, naked, Poetry, transsexual, visual art | Leave a comment

Pronoun, Singular

Posted on March 22, 2017 by John Biscello

I for an I, the faltering trade-in of an egotist contracting tunnels at the expense of light’s vented kiss.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged ego, John Biscello, kiss, Literary, poem, Poetry, pronoun, tunnel | Leave a comment

Busy Signal

Posted on March 22, 2017 by John Biscello

Excerpt from Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale: There’s not really a name for what I do. I am not an investigative journalist, I am not a private eye. I am not a minstrel essayist. There are many things that I … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Publications, Uncategorized | Tagged author, Broken Land a Brooklyn Tale, Brooklyn, coney island, John Biscello, Literary, New York, noir, novel, Prose, Surrealism | Leave a comment

1923

Posted on March 20, 2017 by John Biscello

In the black and white photo, 1923 written in faded pencil in the lower left hand corner, neatly scalloped perforations along the borders—my grandmother and her sister, Rose, are standing on the beach. Coney Island. In the background the … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged beach, Brooklyn, coney island, family, Freeze Tag, grandmother, John Biscello, Literary, story | 2 Comments

Princess Leia on the Rocks

Posted on March 19, 2017 by John Biscello

Excerpt from “Stray Passages: My time in San Francisco lasted a little over a month and would have been even shorter if not for Diana. I arrived and decided to check into a hostel in North Beach. I picked North … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged greyhound, John Biscello, Literary, oakland, princess leia, romanticism, San Francisco, story, travel | Leave a comment

Howl II

Posted on March 12, 2017 by John Biscello

(Poem written in response to Joe Sorren’s “While the Trucks on the Highway All Howl”) While the trucks on the highway all howl, beneath a milk-bottle sky, Sunday’s children, curious and bulb-headed, lay vigorous claim to Paradise. Non-profit architects, they … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, beach, boys, childhood, friends, Joe Sorren, John Biscello, Literary, sand-castles | Leave a comment

Morningbreak

Posted on March 3, 2017 by John Biscello

I want to eat Anne Sexton for breakfast like toxic cereal like bacon fat like sunbursts of egg yolk swallowed whole and washed down with a glass of fire (then I will spit up the flames burning down the … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged anne sexton, death, etcetera, John Biscello, Literary, longing, love, poets, sex, suicide | 13 Comments