Tag Archives: story

Monkeys and Barrels

Posted on November 9, 2024 by John Biscello

None of it was going anywhere. It had been a while. Both things were true. Both could be beginnings. So let’s go with both: None of it was going anywhere. It had been a while. I felt like a dehydrated … Continue reading →

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A Man Walks Into

Posted on November 8, 2024 by John Biscello

A man walks into a man. He realizes it’s the same man … they’re … the same man. They merge. Naturally. Inviolably. A man walks into a man and a merger occurs. Who was I before I walked into myself? … Continue reading →

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Welcome to the Monkey House

Posted on October 24, 2024 by John Biscello

A man rattling the bars inside his cage that is the monkey house of writing and publishing, or, the holy seethe sounded in diminished chords and vinegar.

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Fruit

Posted on August 26, 2024 by John Biscello

I was happy to find out that my story, “Fruit,” was selected as a “Brooklyn 2023 Non-Fiction Prize Finalist” for Brooklyn Film & Art Festival’s competition. A filmed recording of the piece is being scheduled. “Fruit” can be read here.

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Sea Change

Posted on August 25, 2024 by John Biscello

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 →

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How Tomorrow Moves

Posted on June 25, 2024 by John Biscello

Or, Brooklyn Boys Shit-Talkin on Street-Corners Back in the Day.

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Monkeys and Barrels

Posted on June 23, 2024 by John Biscello

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.

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Melodrama

Posted on February 22, 2024 by John Biscello

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 →

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Play

Posted on February 22, 2024 by John Biscello

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 →

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Stand-Up

Posted on February 22, 2024 by John Biscello

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 →

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