Tag Archives: Prose

Lore and Order

Posted on November 25, 2022 by John Biscello
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Born Yesterday

Posted on November 24, 2022 by John Biscello
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In the Beginning

Posted on November 24, 2022 by John Biscello
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The Village

Posted on November 23, 2022 by John Biscello
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Birthing Slivers

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

She came to me when I was a child. Let’s say when I was two, no three. She came to me when I was three. That is me, aged three, centuries ago, someone else’s tears crystallized into this frail pulsing … Continue reading →

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Our Lady of Dust

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

They taught us dust. Those were our lessons. There were other lessons but allegedly none more important than the lessons in dust the sermons. We dreamed dust. We ate dust. There was dust favoring the sunlight insisting upon the rotting … Continue reading →

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Breathing Lessons

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

In school they taught us how to breathe differently. There were other lessons but this was considered the most important one. We had to learn a new way of breathing. Techniques, exercises: what to do, what not to do. They … Continue reading →

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Bath

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Our destinies are molecular, uniformly bonded, an immaculately charged cluster fuck of singing particles wedded to a liminal bubble bath … that is the beginning … we are not alone. We see god drop the soap, intentionally, perhaps the precursor … Continue reading →

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Storytellers

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Storytellers of different ilks different beats different leaks of internal graffiti yet the word always at the heart of it barrowing out into light what comes from shadowlands within. Stories within earshot as eavesdropped whispers Stories like moonshots catapulted with … Continue reading →

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Every Always

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

So, to example: There was a tramp both in and out of time, an iconic tramp who is now and always, he is not old never old, not new never new, he is ever and now and always this tramp … Continue reading →

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