Tag Archives: Literary

Unbound

Posted on November 4, 2016 by John Biscello

Dancing on the lighted rim of fasting hours, cased within this borrowed corpse, savvy and perishable, and rigged to fade, I bless my ghost, in advance, as it cedes to claim a future plot without my name to bind its … Continue reading →

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Claim

Posted on October 25, 2016 by John Biscello

She, bidden by valid tense, unhooked a claim of stars, and lighted her grief, inverting the symmetry of arc.

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Hale

Posted on October 20, 2016 by John Biscello

To sharpen one’s teeth against solvent pages and grated silence is the bite in the air the old poets crowed about, and the wind saliently scales, as if reverse were a condition and not Memory fasting into childhood’s hale.

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Yes

Posted on October 19, 2016 by John Biscello

It is those, in writing, who quietly almost sublimely say fuck you & yes while trafficking, with fierce row, in silence whom I most admire.

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Where is He?

Posted on October 17, 2016 by John Biscello

On the day I landed on Asteroid B-9 and wandered around for a short eternity without a sighting, I asked the Silence if it had said seen the Little Prince to which the Silence responded not at all. The Little … Continue reading →

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Shudder

Posted on October 16, 2016 by John Biscello

Bracing the slide angle, where powerlessness begets a rim, a fingerhold at best. We play on, ordering encrypted light on dark notes, braving blights and chronic fade, we bless, jointly, by shudder and pale, with gospel caulking the sudden seams.

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Eden

Posted on October 14, 2016 by John Biscello

It was no longer Eden, but the bones of Eden. They looked around, they glummed and chimped, they moped and wondered. Then what they did, ably penitent, refugees in their own backyard, they screwed to no avail. They screwed and … Continue reading →

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Feral

Posted on October 7, 2016 by John Biscello

Seized, I am in the ripe feral grip of the new language she is speaking. Her voice fronting a glassy, ciphered edge, a grifting menace. Every calculated utterance bears double and triple meaning, with common intent to baffle, disarm, intrigue, … Continue reading →

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Plaything

Posted on October 4, 2016 by John Biscello

Wafting from afar, the intimate rumor of a divine toy, a cryptic plaything, implications in tow. A tonic and pacifier of blank rages; buoy and anti-freeze to sudden plunges into sub-zero climate. These conditions cannot be bested, but they can … Continue reading →

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Bellwether

Posted on September 29, 2016 by John Biscello

Lidless, the fluent graze of dispersive light, Braille for the heart by which to envision, or, how a river of eyes, vim and bellwethered, cite Forgiveness to tow the pending divide.

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