Tag Archives: Prose

Anya in the Forest

Posted on February 11, 2018 by John Biscello

   In the dream my mother and me are sitting in the lobby of a restaurant. We are waiting to be seated for dinner.    The hostess comes up to me and asks me if I am ­­­ ________. I … Continue reading →

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Anya at Night

Posted on February 8, 2018 by John Biscello

   Late summer.    Anya and I are on a walking tour of the park at night. The 40oz. bottles of Olde-E we are carrying are concealed inside brown bags. We detour at the playground, where Anya plants herself on … Continue reading →

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Valentine

Posted on February 8, 2018 by John Biscello

Excerpt from Nocturne Variations:    From that point forward Piers and Teresa hung out nearly every night, getting drunk and stoned and completing each other in various ways.    An adverbially inflamed Teresa fell hard for Piers and loved her … Continue reading →

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Book of Disquiet

Posted on February 1, 2018 by John Biscello

Review of Fernando Pessoa’s Book of Disquiet, appearing in Riot Material. “Abandon hope all ye who enter here, might be the most fitting sign and qualifier preceding entry into the world of Disquiet. And yet, paradoxically, there is beauty, staggering, asphyxiating … Continue reading →

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Grandfather

Posted on January 21, 2018 by John Biscello

   The only time I had ever seen my grandfather cry was also the first time I had ever seen an adult blatantly lose touch with reality. His first wife, my grandmother, Angelina, had died when I was five. She … Continue reading →

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Holden on the Rocks

Posted on January 21, 2018 by John Biscello

   After the first bar, my father and I slide over to another bar, a non-island-themed one where a DJ is spinning party-pop music. At this point my father is slumped over on his barstool. When the bartender asks him … Continue reading →

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Relapse

Posted on January 21, 2018 by John Biscello

   We head to a different bar, with an island theme. A bartender with a yellow lay collaring his neck says aloha and asks us what we’re drinking. My father says Johnnie Walker Black double. When my father asks me … Continue reading →

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Recording Live

Posted on January 19, 2018 by John Biscello

   I understand that I am not only with my father and grandfather and Marie as family, but also as a writer. I am sketching them. The mechanical hand in my mind that never stops is charting and sketching and … Continue reading →

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Disability

Posted on January 18, 2018 by John Biscello

Receiving disability was another gold ticket ambition of many of the men in my neighborhood. Years ago, my father had lucked into this fortune by hurting his back while working and had been able to parlay that into a ceaseless … Continue reading →

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Reckoning

Posted on January 17, 2018 by John Biscello

I realized that there may never come a reckoning that equated to a clean or true do-over. And what was it I wanted to break from? Was it the past, was it a worn and outdated mode of self that … Continue reading →

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