Tag Archives: Prose

Directions Home

Posted on September 28, 2021 by John Biscello

Excerpt from No One Dreams in Color, a novel-in-progress. Bob Dylan, Carl Jung and Leonard Cohen walk into a bar in heaven… Dylan was dressed like a tramp clown, wearing a battered calico vest, baggy trousers, and a dusty bowler. … Continue reading →

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Oh, the Places You’ll Sow!

Posted on August 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Nothing can be done except a little at a time. This Baudelaire quote has been one of my mantras, one of my steady running mates since as long as I can remember. The world runs on inspiration. Warm fevers, lightning … Continue reading →

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Brooklyn in Taos

Posted on August 20, 2021 by John Biscello

Review of No Man’s Brooklyn in this week’s edition of the Taos News, as well as an interview about the novel, growing up in Brooklyn, and the writing life. No Man’s Brooklynby John BiscelloCSF Publishing (2021, 164 pp.) “Anya, a … Continue reading →

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No Man’s Brooklyn

Posted on June 23, 2021 by John Biscello

Cover reveal for my fourth novel. Coming soon from CSF Publishing.

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Straight Outta Brooklyn

Posted on June 11, 2021 by John Biscello

Short video trailer, shot in Brooklyn, promoting the upcoming release of my fourth novel. NO MAN’S BROOKLYN From the valentine boneyards of working-class Brooklyn, comes a tale of first love, lost innocence, tragedy, and healing. Daniel Trovato, having left his … Continue reading →

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Girl, Flame

Posted on April 16, 2021 by John Biscello

She is there. She is always there, in the corridor. And she is lonely. This much I know. Lonely as a form of cold that you cannot cover with blankets or insulate against with coats and scarves and such. And … Continue reading →

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Waiting

Posted on January 28, 2021 by John Biscello

   I am waiting. There I am, see me, waiting on the train station platform. I am waiting for my train. It is a specific train that I am waiting for. When a train begins pulling into the station, I … Continue reading →

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If Only in Burning

Posted on January 14, 2021 by John Biscello

   I saw the sign in the window: Lessons Learned/Karma Burned. I went inside. The studio smelled like frankincence. And cotton candy. Greeting me at the door, as if she had been waiting for me, was a tall, well-toned woman … Continue reading →

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Blue Boy

Posted on January 14, 2021 by John Biscello

   There’s something wrong with him, my father said. Look at him. Something’s not right. Something happened to him. He’s sick. All he thinks about is writing. That’s all he thinks about. He is blue.    Even though I wasn’t … Continue reading →

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Death Rides In On A Pony

Posted on December 29, 2020 by John Biscello

When Death showed up on a broken-down pony, I scoffed. This, really? What, Death said, looking around, unsure as to who or what I was referring. You’re Death, right? Yes. THE Death? You can check my I.D. And you’ve come … Continue reading →

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