Tag Archives: Prose

Tuesday

Posted on September 8, 2026 by John Biscello

You send yourself letters endlessly. They are postmarked from the future, some future date, some invented date, or the dates are all over the map—future and past switch places like Tuesday and Thursday, or Sunday and Monday. That is to … Continue reading →

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Neo-Folk

Posted on September 3, 2026 by John Biscello

Everything always going on. People worry about everything not going on but what they’re really saying beneath the waves what they’re subliminally saying and worrying about is them not going on. Everything going on and them not. How to reconcile … Continue reading →

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Plight Trajectory

Posted on September 3, 2026 by John Biscello

Youth passes in fleeting doses, and doesn’t die a single death, youth as concept and cheat code disassembles into ghosts, into many ghosts which proliferate and spread, in pursuit of seances and possession. Youth, in its death, moves in many … Continue reading →

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Scraps

Posted on September 3, 2026 by John Biscello

Memories keep us in a state of cinematic dismemberment. Spliced ribbons of footage everywhere. Identity diced and chopped. Fractures and fragments become us in motivating assembly. We are always puzzling together aspects of our lives in dimly lit corridors, in … Continue reading →

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Chart

Posted on September 2, 2026 by John Biscello

Memory as a course charted, as grooves cut into void through perennial retreading. Have I been here before can be replaced by have I been here again? It is part of the tease and conundrum of endless. Ask yourself—have I … Continue reading →

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Audio Book Giveaway

Posted on September 1, 2026 by John Biscello

It’s Tune In Tuesday: in conjunction with Audiobooks.com, we are giving away five free audio-books of The Last Furies. If you request an audio-book, we will provide the code to redeem your edition. We just ask that you post a … Continue reading →

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World of Blue

Posted on May 21, 2026 by John Biscello

It was autumn, or late summer. She existed more than half her waking life in the coat-room she called home. At this palace of a department store—she, the coat-check girl, I, the elevator guy. It was a long time ago. … Continue reading →

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As if Ghosts

Posted on May 16, 2026 by John Biscello

She, as in ghosts, as in white-hot incubi with a seductive glassy not there stare, it bewitches and allures, bears melancholy freighted with scraped knees and mirror shards. There is a lucid unblinking poise, calculated reserve composed of crystal and … Continue reading →

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Chronicles

Posted on May 13, 2026 by John Biscello

What is it we’ve done? What is it you’ve done? Mark it down. Make an inventory of jottings that concretize and confirm your fleeting form of being. How did you wake? What was it like sleeping? These happenings these adventures … Continue reading →

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Lost and Found

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

Who lost, what found? What lost, who found? The world is an endless complex of lost and found. You lose dead skin. Hair follicles take to the sky in ghostly wisps. You excrete today’s breakfast, you ingest animal fat and … Continue reading →

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