Tag Archives: Prose

Spring Dusting

Posted on April 10, 2017 by John Biscello

As part of a Countdown Deal, the Kindle edition of my novel Raking the Dust will be available for $1.99, April 11-18. ABOUT: In this rogue’s tale, full of sound, fury, and erotic surrealism, we meet Alex Fillameno, a writer who has traded … Continue reading →

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The Haunting of One’s Self

Posted on March 28, 2017 by John Biscello

Review of Paul Auster’s 4 3 2 1, appearing in Riot Material. “He believed in an infinite series of times, in a growing, dizzying net of divergent, convergent and parallel times. This network of times which approached one another, forked, … Continue reading →

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Busy Signal

Posted on March 22, 2017 by John Biscello

Excerpt from Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale: There’s not really a name for what I do.  I am not an investigative journalist, I am not a private eye.  I am not a minstrel essayist.  There are many things that I … Continue reading →

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Spleen

Posted on March 19, 2017 by John Biscello

   We didn’t talk about it, but we knew we’d never amount to anything, no matter what we did.    No matter how celebrated the accomplishment, no matter how big the lie and the audience buying it, nothing could ever … Continue reading →

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Memory Babe

Posted on March 12, 2017 by John Biscello

(In honor of Jack Kerouac’s birthday, March 12th, an excerpt from my Greyhound travelogue, “Stray Passages”)    I discovered Kerouac, by chance, when I was nineteen and as a wide-eyed babe greedily suckling Kerouac’s vision-engorged tit, that  which he had … Continue reading →

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Fruit

Posted on March 12, 2017 by John Biscello

   L & S was a candy store and newsstand located on the corner of 60th St. and 18th Ave.  L & S, which stood for Louie & Son, was owned by Louie Varinella: a burly, slightly balding man with … Continue reading →

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Lighted Window Syndrome

Posted on February 13, 2017 by John Biscello

   All my life I have had lighted window syndrome.    Being outside someone’s window at night, and seeing the lighted window, its warm amber glow was an invitation to feel a sense of home, not to be at home, … Continue reading →

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My Sister

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

   My sister and I are bonded in that we were in the trenches together. In the battle-zone that was our household, we were witnesses to and casualties of the same war.    I am six years older than my … Continue reading →

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My Father

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

My father was a tough guy. How tough, it’s hard to say. And when I say tough I mean it in the street-Brooklyn sort of way. Neighborhood-tough, man-tough, like that.    As I’ve grown older I’ve realized it’s much more … Continue reading →

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Manual Labor of Like

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

   I had hoped to make out with Josephine during the movie, but the hand-job was completely unexpected.  Even after what Kenny had told me, I was still shocked when it happened.    Josephine was the cousin of Jenny, my … Continue reading →

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