Tag Archives: Poetry

Tilt

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

A mirror, tilted, starkly pooling lovers self-similar turns and views of each other: I am I, you are you, qualifiers blurred and dissolved in a furious crossing of ritual desires.

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The Upstart Scarecrow

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

(Listen to the spoken word track here.) There he goes um-humh that’s him Willy Shakes the upstart scarecrow and derelict poet of the barrio and bodegas— gin rummy seizures and shaker of visions— hangnail to a scab dude rips it up … Continue reading →

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Trinity

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Beware the airless room, without light, laughter and love, a Trinity beyond reckon, none of it is worth a good goddamn.    

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Slingshot

Posted on February 20, 2018 by John Biscello

From a distance, within, the story of a writer’s life in the day of fiction’s living wake.

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Ember

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

How a writer, cave-timing dark and solitude, annoints an ember by crafting the small hours into a flagrant torch.

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Wish You Were Here

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

 Send us postcards from your loneliest places, your fault-lines and secret rivets, send us words and we promise not to burn them, we promise that something of the ineffable will stick, as if a lasting thorn in God’s bruised paw.

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Preschool: A Love Story

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

Jilly, aged three, bared her teeth & bit Jack, four, hard on the arm, breaking skin & drawing blood. Stunned, Jack’s baby blues ballooned & gaped at Jilly, bright with malice & glee. Why Jilly why, Jack cried, nursing his … Continue reading →

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If L.L. Cool J. and Sylvia Plath Had Gotten Down

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

Listen to the spoken word track w/ music here. Don’t call it a Comeback— L.L. Cool J. wooing Sylvia Plath in broad daylight where they dance and get crazy theatrical doing the Lazarus (and doing it and doing it well) Sylvia … Continue reading →

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In Praise of Honey

Posted on February 19, 2018 by John Biscello

Listen to the spoken word track (with bass and flute) here. If your body, sungthru riddled and sticky, demanded rechristening for old time’s taste, down I’d go divebombin straight to and through the Source— a treebranch’s wellhung honeycomb totem, ridged bulb … Continue reading →

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Legendless

Posted on February 18, 2018 by John Biscello

Watch the vaudeville sharks take big rending bites out of our amens! and know that our routines, tired and untrue, serve no purpose except diversions which keep tick-talking heads at a low, grave premium, false totems bereft of ceremony and … Continue reading →

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