Tag Archives: Literary

Sunday’s Children

Posted on July 5, 2016 by John Biscello

(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 sit … Continue reading →

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Hide and Seek

Posted on July 4, 2016 by John Biscello

      Ready or not, here I come.    I can still hear my voice calling out, a bright echo in a jagged loop.    Hide and seek was a game we used to play all the time.    At … Continue reading →

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Fugue

Posted on July 4, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “Sunday Afternoon on Kolin Island”) The camera’s lucid eye swaddles them in gauze, reverse cocoon effect and causal brakes of a fugue, fast-tracking lives to ashen blanks.

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Fiction in Taos

Posted on July 1, 2016 by John Biscello

From the Taos Rag, July 2016    

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Wheelbarrow

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “Contrasts, St. Vitus Cathedral”). Considering the slopes of noble toil and grave matter, so much depends upon a soiled wheelbarrow.

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Review of Raking the Dust

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

A review of Raking the Dust for which I was most appreciative. “Gritty and serene, twisted and sweet, bizarre and weirdly relatable… this novel is magical surrealism and simple authenticity woven together in an improbably captivating tale. I was reminded of … Continue reading →

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Mass

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “At Church.) jesus christ we applaud your shaded storehouse of yesterday’s cured pulp and no account sins, a meat pack industry at love’s labor’s cost; we, the proud brood of salt and bread, walk … Continue reading →

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Totem

Posted on June 27, 2016 by John Biscello

   Here, her mother said, pressing something into her palm.    A pinch.    A pinch, breaking skin, spreading blush and heat.    She looked down—her palm now tattooed with a tangle of dark glyphs; a concert of spirals, curlicues … Continue reading →

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Yellow is the Color of my Sad

Posted on June 26, 2016 by John Biscello

Yellow is the color of my sad, how it runs. Some think it is blue but it is not. Blue is the common choice for color/me/sad, the popular one (how moods get typecast), but yellow is much sadder than blue, … Continue reading →

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Dust Bunny

Posted on June 25, 2016 by John Biscello

“I went to the kitchen and fixed myself another drink. Then I went over to the door leading out to the deck and looked through its glass window. The sky, mottled and ominous, looked like it was on the verge … Continue reading →

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