Tag Archives: story

Giant Killer

Posted on December 16, 2025 by John Biscello

   The first thing Josie thought—He looks like Hemingway.    The second thing—He reminds me of my grandfather.    Knowing that Sir James (which was how he had introduced himself with a dramatic flourish—I, my dear, am Sir James) had … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My So-Called Life as a Cartoon

Posted on December 16, 2025 by John Biscello

   Being a cartoon is not all it’s cracked up to be. Don’t get me wrong, when I first made the conversion from human to cartoon, I considered myself the luckiest sonofagun on the face of the earth. All my … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Setting

Posted on December 15, 2025 by John Biscello

He notices the dark red lipstick on the rim of the glass, displaying a half-moon smudge. For an instant, his vision moves beyond the glass and settles on the inner lapel of the jacket she’s wearing, comparing its brighter red … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Locomotive

Posted on December 15, 2025 by John Biscello

   You didn’t dream her, you who are slowly climbing aboard a locomotive, being watched, so you feel, by whom? The needling press and burn of eyes on your back, itchy hot collar, you scratch, you cough, you take a … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Moveable Feast

Posted on December 12, 2025 by John Biscello

   The first time I saw Hemingway he was seated at a table on his terrace overlooking the train station. It was raining that day and I was waiting on the platform opposite the terrace. I chanced to look up … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Torch Song

Posted on December 12, 2025 by John Biscello

   She is there. She is always there, in the corridor. And she is lonely. This much I know. Lonely as a form of cold that you cannot cover with blankets or insulate against with coats and scarves and such. … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

City Lights

Posted on December 11, 2025 by John Biscello

   There’s something wrong with him, my father said. Look at him. Something’s not right. Something’s happened to him. He’s sick. All he thinks about is writing. That’s all he thinks about. He is blue.    Even though I wasn’t … Continue reading →

Posted in Cinema, Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dark Matter

Posted on December 4, 2025 by John Biscello

A story from out of the dark. First there was one voice, followed by a second voice … the dark twists itself into shapes and semblances. The dark is the clothing our ghosts wear. I have tried to acquaint myself … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Talisman

Posted on December 4, 2025 by John Biscello

Wordwise, edges and ledges: we are falling off. We, as in word-wielding also world-wearied, we, an endangered species, parrots with branded larynxes … falling off. Ask a stranger to cup your balls (male or female you, no matter) as you … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

(sic)

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

   She compiled what they called obscure texts into what was then labeled an obscure book. She was vilified. To be obscure, to be knowingly obscure, was, as they saw it, was a veiled threat to innocence and an assault … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment