Tag Archives: text

What Should I Wear Tonight?

Posted on October 9, 2026 by John Biscello

Memory as a course charted, as grooves engraved into void through perennial retreading. Have I been here before can be replaced by have I been here again? It is part of the unflagging tease and conundrum of endless. Ask yourself—have … Continue reading →

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Swimming Lessons

Posted on October 6, 2026 by John Biscello

My mother’s face. The bladed cheekbones, the dancer’s neck, the crowded eyes. What about the rest of her? My mother carried within herself gothic mass, sclerotic and stillborn, the dead child of motherless. Motherless lived inside my mother, beside her. … Continue reading →

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Pop Quiz

Posted on October 1, 2026 by John Biscello

It was not enough, never enough. The ghosts were bottomless in their hunger, and legion. This sense of not-enough had plagued and subliminally influenced me for as long as I can remember. Not-enough was the ultimate mindfuck and midwife because … Continue reading →

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Bop

Posted on September 17, 2026 by John Biscello
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Chronicles

Posted on May 13, 2026 by John Biscello

What is it we’ve done? What is it you’ve done? Mark it down. Make an inventory of jottings that concretize and confirm your fleeting form of being. How did you wake? What was it like sleeping? These happenings these adventures … Continue reading →

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Lost and Found

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

Who lost, what found? What lost, who found? The world is an endless complex of lost and found. You lose dead skin. Hair follicles take to the sky in ghostly wisps. You excrete today’s breakfast, you ingest animal fat and … Continue reading →

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Here and There

Posted on May 12, 2026 by John Biscello

I am here while I went there. Both things are true. Physically you walked to a place, a tangible and specific location, while mentally and psychically you went elsewhere, you traveled to a different, phantasmal, non-location. You can be in … Continue reading →

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Morph

Posted on May 11, 2026 by John Biscello

His name is Morph because he is always changing. Her name is Morph because … see above. We are all changelings, all in a state of perpetual morph, that word clipped and pruned from metamorphosis. Morph as in we are … Continue reading →

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Bodyscript

Posted on May 11, 2026 by John Biscello

Body be thy name as prayer made flesh. As prayer marry flesh. Flesh-prayer reaped in daily chronicles of sunlight, flesh exhales us into hospitable swaths and regions of dark, flesh as the ultimate wheelbarrow, sturdy and stable. Until it is … Continue reading →

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In Praise of Abstraction

Posted on May 11, 2026 by John Biscello

Abstraction is essential. It is a key tenet and cog in mapless wayfaring. The compass by which we’ve calculated starstuff as sacral molten matter in our dream-stream and slow burn. It is Romanticism caped under a lemon parasol with Impressionism … Continue reading →

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