Tag Archives: Literary

Vivaldi in Love

Posted on March 2, 2017 by John Biscello

Spring, tender bud raising gravity in the center of a palm. Summer, drawn and quartered shafts of light mouthing the sea. Fall, fetal leaves curling in on themselves— inversion banking on faith. Winter, hospitable merger of bare limbs relishing arson … Continue reading →

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Lighted Window Syndrome

Posted on February 13, 2017 by John Biscello

   All my life I have had lighted window syndrome.    Being outside someone’s window at night, and seeing the lighted window, its warm amber glow was an invitation to feel a sense of home, not to be at home, … Continue reading →

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My Father

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

My father was a tough guy. How tough, it’s hard to say. And when I say tough I mean it in the street-Brooklyn sort of way. Neighborhood-tough, man-tough, like that.    As I’ve grown older I’ve realized it’s much more … Continue reading →

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Manual Labor of Like

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

   I had hoped to make out with Josephine during the movie, but the hand-job was completely unexpected.  Even after what Kenny had told me, I was still shocked when it happened.    Josephine was the cousin of Jenny, my … Continue reading →

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Kleptomania

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

     There was a time when kleptomania was all the rage among the women in my family. That is, my mother, and my two aunts, Marie and Rosetta, were robbing department stores and toy stores with casual regularity. I’m … Continue reading →

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Bloodlet

Posted on February 9, 2017 by John Biscello

   I don’t think they can handle the Juice, Davey Dog sneered a challenge.    He smirked with superiority and you couldn’t tell exactly where he was looking, because his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses.    There were eight … Continue reading →

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Street Corner

Posted on February 8, 2017 by John Biscello

   It was a vicious arena, gladiator combat conducted with tongues.    To survive on a Brooklyn street corner you needed you needed to be quick on the verbal draw. It was easy, always on the defensive, one’s metaphysical position … Continue reading →

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Glow

Posted on February 8, 2017 by John Biscello

   The coke parties were my favorite. It was when everyone was happiest. Everyone meant my father, my mother, and their friends, Teddy and Debby. Occasionally, Debby’s brother, Wayne,  was part of everyone.    My mother would say—Teddy and Debby … Continue reading →

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Literary Fire Sale

Posted on February 7, 2017 by John Biscello

As part of a countdown deal, the Kindle edition of my novels Raking the Dust and Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale will be available for $2.99 from February 8th-15th.    

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They Are Their Own

Posted on February 6, 2017 by John Biscello

Do you know where your children are? Or rather who, in their ripening pedigree and new language they are in the process of becoming? Make no mistake they are not nor have they ever been yours belonging infinitely to the … Continue reading →

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