Tag Archives: Poetry

Hymnal

Posted on October 6, 2022 by John Biscello

On a molecular level, we are fucked. Perpetually, repeatedly, renewably. Fucked. The world is an unceasing orgy, everything touches everything, nonstop fondling and hymnal friction between pulsing meshes. Your very breath is a shore leave sailor and kissing cousin, a … Continue reading →

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Not in So Many Words

Posted on October 6, 2022 by John Biscello

On a molecular level, we are fucked. Perpetually, repeatedly, renewably. Fucked. The world is an unceasing orgy. Everything touches everything, nonstop fondling and incestuous friction between particles, the pulsing frisson of meshes. We are nets that hold nothing and touch … Continue reading →

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Splish Splash

Posted on October 5, 2022 by John Biscello

Our destinies are molecular an infinitely charged clusterfuck of singing particles wedded to a liminal bubblebath in which god drops the soap and slips under to retrieve it when she reemerges face caked in a frothy foam beard you laugh … Continue reading →

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Sphinx

Posted on October 2, 2022 by John Biscello

The broken pulsing fingers of rain, cloning time, tap spates of symmetry against my window— This, both cause and effect, upon the glassy passage of hours, dwindling, singing, undeciphered.

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There is No Curtain

Posted on September 23, 2022 by John Biscello

Forever and ever is the asking price and promise the singer made to the song conjugal atomic bliss siring the I that right now is speaking singularly on behalf of the song and singer forever and ever.

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Dust in the Wind

Posted on August 12, 2022 by John Biscello

Much here is caked in dust. Dust-skinned dogs and dust-skinned horses. Dust-coated houses in ruin, the staccato of ruins, the oldlife song of decay, dreams move sluggishly here at the pace of dust, the swirling eddies of dust, dust in … Continue reading →

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Moonstruck

Posted on August 9, 2022 by John Biscello

From scratch, we dig out what we think the moon owes us– Lore of attraction.

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Fireflies

Posted on July 24, 2022 by John Biscello

All these stories– Fireflies in a garden, on a moonless night.

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Citation

Posted on June 30, 2022 by John Biscello

Tablatures of light engraved in your palms by eyeless angels once upon a time when yes was yes and waves were forms serve as source citation while hosting vividly the fact that your hands are the temples which can be … Continue reading →

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Days of Mourning

Posted on June 21, 2022 by John Biscello

She wasn’t sure how she had become days of mourning. It began with a pall, a thick viscous scrim that changed what she saw, sawed herself into halves and quarters and post-dissection she noticed days had turned into weeks into … Continue reading →

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