Tag Archives: Poetry

I Don’t Wanna Work on Daddy’s Farm No More

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Nesting, she broodedon the future of free range–No claims to hold her. (Artwork by Izumi Yokoyama)

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Disintegration (The Cure)

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

No sitters to tend,solvent to its own winter–If these floors could talk. (Installation by Izumi Yokoyama)

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Girl, Interrupted

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

The girl in the chairis no longer the girl in the chair,she is neither here nor there,she is always and forget-me-not,soul-spray and glacial uproarcausing a siege,she is the spidery patternsof her exploded heart,woven in to the ritual symmetryof a fibrous … Continue reading →

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Body Double

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

It would be the last time, the last thinning whatever that gave night its fool’s edge and lyrical tilt— Scraping half-moon fingernails against famished odds, he briefly paused to consider the bottomless gorge of a hungry ghost demanding of its … Continue reading →

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The Odds

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

He had searched high and low, mostly low, but he knew his fate, rigged to electrical impulses and happenstance, waited somewhere between a wrong number and an empty glass. He squeezed the lucky rabbit foot in his pocket, a prayer, … Continue reading →

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Vertical

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

One of those lighted windows would change his life forever— It was matter of calculated ascent, and guessing right for once.

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Some Like It Hot

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Traversing, in a beat shuffle and worn cadence, many oblique side streets and shadow-stained back alleys to arrive at where he now stood— the white-hot lure and rigged bait of a suspect angel, who played hard to get, beckoned with … Continue reading →

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Brooklyn Spleen

Posted on November 21, 2024 by John Biscello

We didn’t talk about it, but we knew we’d never amount to anything, no matter what we did. No matter how celebrated the accomplishment, no matter how big the fiction and the audience buying it, nothing could ever fill those … Continue reading →

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Focal Points

Posted on November 19, 2024 by John Biscello

Deep focus in film, as in the depth of a shot, creating dimensional layers. What about deep focus when one points the camera towards the interior? Not just the surface level of interest or engagement, or the foreground, but a … Continue reading →

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Distances

Posted on November 18, 2024 by John Biscello

In the catacombs of grief, she wandered. She wandered, without thirst, without hunger, without want. This frightened her. Had she lost her basic humanity? Why had she created such elaborate labyrinths in which to wander? Try saying that ten times … Continue reading →

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