Tag Archives: travel

Way Station

Posted on December 19, 2025 by John Biscello

   I am waiting. There I am, see me, waiting on the train station platform. I am waiting for my train. It is a specific train that I am waiting for. When a train begins pulling into the station, I … Continue reading →

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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 →

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Intimate Measures

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

It is a lonely road. The road made of words. The words stay put. The feelings don’t. The words crystallize, become the flambed edges of something soft in the center. It is a struggle within, and a turn-on, mud-wrestling false … Continue reading →

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Road Test

Posted on December 1, 2025 by John Biscello

   I spent a great deal of my twenties canned inside the dank sweaty armpit of travel Americana: Greyhound. My longstanding affair with Greyhound was born from a blended cocktail of economics and innate romanticism. As a young man with … Continue reading →

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Sepia

Posted on October 12, 2025 by John Biscello

Nostalgia is a death-trap, eating its own tail and leading nowhere. Nostalgia copulates with ghosts in dusty storage rooms and snakelike corridors. Now and again and again now never is nostalgia’s recipe and calling card. Nostalgia is the last picture … Continue reading →

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Way Station

Posted on October 11, 2025 by John Biscello

I walked to the train station at night. I was going to drive. It was a hot day, I had already been out walking in the sun, and I thought—just drive to the train station. But when it was time … Continue reading →

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Of Place and Haunt

Posted on October 11, 2025 by John Biscello

It was a town caught in the thorny stasis between living and dying, between mortuary and chrysalis. I want to examine why it is I am drawn to places like this, why I always return to this specific feeling of … Continue reading →

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Beckett’s Sonata

Posted on March 31, 2025 by John Biscello

A hatless pilgrim, roving this way and that, a man embodying scat (in every sense of the word), wandering through starched cardstock fields in search of a stingy flower, proud, pistil-engraved, the flower’s gullet scorched by streaks of sungold (this, … Continue reading →

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Without Proper Guidance

Posted on November 17, 2024 by John Biscello

They had me in a corner and ganged up on me. A team of guidance counselors wearing black turtlenecks, black Dickies, black wingtips, wristwatches, and spotlessly clean spectacles. Their voices harmonized in a harsh baritone chorus: Biscello (ohhhh…ohhhhh…sounded the echo)—what … Continue reading →

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Veils

Posted on November 12, 2024 by John Biscello

Invention was your solitude and twin, wasn’t it, Miss Nin? The calculated manner in which you spread secret pages, like silk violet capes or fringed shawls, promising an air of mystery and desire. You enabled the cause of symmetry, so … Continue reading →

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