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Meta
Tag Archives: story
Sea Change
Excerpt from my recently completed novel, Worlds Last Imagined. This fragment is a meditation upon the tenuous and subjective relationship between memory and fiction: She stood at a distance, imagining her daughter there, playing. She saw how her daughter lit … Continue reading
How Tomorrow Moves
Or, Brooklyn Boys Shit-Talkin on Street-Corners Back in the Day.
Posted in Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Prose, Video
Tagged back in the day, Brooklyn, days of box wine and plastic roses, New York, Prose, shit talkin, story, streetcorner hustle, urban youth
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Monkeys and Barrels
Kinked reflections on the writing life, New York states of mind, Babe Ruth’s prodigious appetite, Einsteinian time-blips, desert blues, and the Aqua Net generation.
Posted in Artwork, Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Video
Tagged aqua net, author, babe ruth, Brooklyn, einstein, graffiti, New York, Prose, publishing industry, reflections, Spoken Word, story, storytelling, the writing life, voice
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Melodrama
Let’s start with this photo, the comic melodrama in which you, perfectly staged, are wearing a blue pinafore dress, your dark hair gagged in pigtails, mouth heavily lipsticked, cheeks cherubically rouged, your eyes two flashing ovals of abyss-pooling licorice, sweat … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged incarnations, life and death, locomotive, love story, lyrics to go, melodrama, mourning, novel in progress, photo, Prose, silent film, story, tragedy, villain
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Play
I have to imagine her death from every conceivable angle. She has assured me she will disappear, said that dying is a trick of the light, and everyone was enamored of the mirage, convinced, in on it, the gag. When … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged betweenworlds, death, dreamscape, life, Light, love story, mirage, persona, playtime, Prose, show, story, Theater
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Stand-Up
This is not a not a novel. This is a rhapsody. I rhapsodize, I bubble, I ferment, I fount. The amassing of word-shaped sounds have become rhapsodies, digressions, solos within spheres and platforms of soul-sounding species and choruses, the every … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged black comedy, book, fiction, lenny bruce, lord buckley, mae west, nightclub, not novel, novel, Poetry, stand-up, story, storytelling, this lyrical life, voice, words
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Recorded Live
In the cinema, hypnotized. I died a drugged and stupefied death again and again, crucified by the diminished returns of flickering images. I die, tranquilized, a sweetly solemn refugee from reality. This is the escapist way, its creed. Why pretend … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged between worlds, birthing process, Cinema, deathing process, dreams, imagination, novel in progress, recording, story, syndication, waiting, wordpray, words, writing life, wuz here
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In the Dark
If cinema is a tomb, then let us die watching. The angel over my shoulder is hunched, opaque, morphing. None of us ever leave behind the dark of the theater. We are here, always. Sanctuary, haven, enclave, respite, sitting tight … Continue reading
Gilead After Dark
Time dreamed, and I was there. The persistently nagging sense of simultaneously being there and not being there. A fusion and mediation of allegedly separate entities, such as timelines, distances (intimacy, you see, belong to the immeasurable). The mantling of … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged balm in gilead, children, echoes, excerpt, musing, myth, novel in progress, out of the dark, sketch, story, vision, voices, wonder
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John Biscello 