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Posted on May 8, 2018 by John Biscello

I am guilty of having poured too many words on top, too many phrases turned to silver coins massaged into the gaping eternity of palms, I have done my best to imitate the rain, and have failed, but how fucking … Continue reading →

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Easter

Posted on March 28, 2018 by John Biscello

She, tender Sunday, wearing only beads of rain– her skin held the light.

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Breadth

Posted on March 8, 2018 by John Biscello

To revel in awe, just cause for breathing deep, slow, breadth taking you in.   (Photo by Anne Brigman)

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No Runway Required

Posted on March 7, 2018 by John Biscello

How come no one ever asks, What are you metaphysically wearing right now? Are you basking in translucent skivvies, rocking spangled self-awareness, dream-dropping golden drawers and grace-lace in multi-storied tatters, are you so flagrantly naked right now, candle-wax-drip in a … Continue reading →

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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 →

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