Tag Archives: Prose

Storm Front

Posted on November 13, 2020 by John Biscello

“I think we are climates above which pause threats of storms that take place elsewhere.”—Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet What then, this weather of strange balloons and vanities engorged like blowfish bladders purpling to the point of bursting? Who, … Continue reading →

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Wistful

Posted on November 12, 2020 by John Biscello

“It was back into the mind of the young man with cardboard soles who had walked the streets of New York.  I was him again—for an instant I had the good fortune to share his dreams, I who had no … Continue reading →

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Cracked Plate

Posted on November 12, 2020 by John Biscello

“Sometimes, though, the cracked plate has to be retained in the pantry, has to be kept in service as a household necessity.  It can never again be warmed on the stove nor shuffled with the other plates in the dishpan; … Continue reading →

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Burning Down the House

Posted on November 8, 2020 by John Biscello

Grateful to be a contributor to the recently released anthology: As the World Burns: Writers and Artists Reflect on a World Gone Mad (Indie Blue Publishing). The women who spearheaded this project continue to create platforms in the publishing world … Continue reading →

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Review of Invisible Ink

Posted on October 30, 2020 by John Biscello

(Review of Patrick Modiano’s novel, Invisible Ink.) If there is a suitcase, forged documentation, café-life and tons of mileage accumulated tramping the streets of Paris, it’s a pretty safe guess that you are inside a Patrick Modiano novel. The French … Continue reading →

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Jean Rhys

Posted on October 19, 2020 by John Biscello

You held the islands in your eyes, where it rained and rained and then the sun warmed wet to a wafting hiss. This Jean, you, the feline slink, filigreed shock, and sinewy comb of whitelaced waves ruffling upon puttied blobs … Continue reading →

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Glow

Posted on September 16, 2020 by John Biscello

Childhood and coke parties. Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.

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The Honeymooners

Posted on August 24, 2020 by John Biscello

Ralph Kramden sweats and sweats, his eyeballs bulging. Plagued by the notion that he has become a whale, no a rhinoceros, no an inoculated hippo that shows up to birthday parties uninvited. This visual grotesquerie, reflected to him through the … Continue reading →

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Happy Days

Posted on August 24, 2020 by John Biscello

In this episode of Happy Days, Arthur Fonzarelli, Fonzie, The Fonz, slaps Richie, hard, across the face. Void of context, we don’t know why. Richie’s jaw drops. He is in shock. He holds his hand against his crimsoned cheek. Richie … Continue reading →

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Paper Trail

Posted on June 9, 2020 by John Biscello

Jigsaw geography of a novel in progress (The Last Furies).

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