Tag Archives: urban

Halloween

Posted on October 4, 2017 by John Biscello

Halloween. As was tradition, the boys would stalk the neighborhood, armed with cartons of eggs and cans of Barbasol. Me and my friends were foam-caked, yolk-splatted messes when we ran into Alexis and her friends coming home from school. They … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, catholic school girls, crush, halloween, jack and sally, John Biscello, Prose, story, urban, young love | Leave a comment

Futurism 101

Posted on October 1, 2017 by John Biscello

Shaping destiny’s progress through emptiness held together by an epiphany of particles architecting man’s worth in finite measures.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged architecture, city, futurism, haiku, John Biscello, manifest destiny, New York, new york in the 20s, poem, Poetry, progress, skyscrapers, urban | Leave a comment

Summer Wind

Posted on August 21, 2017 by John Biscello

Tar, vinegar, piss, crossing of urban perfume– Those summer winds, tracked.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged 18th avenue, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, haiku, John Biscello, New York, poem, summer, train, urban | Leave a comment

Legend

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

Summer in Brooklyn, hydrant dreaming in graffiti– legends of childhood.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Brooklyn, childhood, decay, graffiti, haiku, John Biscello, love, poem, Poetry, summer, urban | Leave a comment

Mystery

Posted on August 10, 2017 by John Biscello

Because we never met, you will forever and always remain the fretted girl behind double crossed scratched glass square rooted Brooklyn train station blues, the soundless frozen fragment of a life running on and outward bound.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Brooklyn, girl, image, photo, poem, Poetry, train station, urban | Leave a comment

Digging for Air

Posted on June 11, 2017 by John Biscello

There was always plenty of tomorrow-talk, bright ribbons of noise amounting to nothing. What we would do, where we would go, how we’d become this or that. We erected fragile monuments to ourselves, and expected others to pay their respects, … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, John Biscello, Literary, poem, Prose, street corner, urban | Leave a comment

Valentine

Posted on June 1, 2017 by John Biscello

At the fringes of his bucket list, on his very last pour, he honored the small bright birds buried in his heart for his first love, his ailing mom, who, in her fading twilight, could tenderly absorb the valentine immortalized … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged concrete, John Biscello, love, message, poem, Poetry, sidewalk, urban, valentine | Leave a comment

The Urban Way

Posted on March 25, 2017 by John Biscello

Boy on street corner brown bag in his hand, crinkling– Yo, I’ve gotta piss.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Brooklyn, haiku, John Biscello, Literary, New York, Poetry, street corner, urban | 1 Comment

Spleen

Posted on March 19, 2017 by John Biscello

We didn’t talk about it, but we knew we’d never amount to anything, no matter what we did. No matter how celebrated the accomplishment, no matter how big the lie and the audience buying it, nothing could ever … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged Bensonhurst, boys, Brooklyn, John Biscello, neighborhood, Prose, story, urban | Leave a comment

My Mother

Posted on February 11, 2017 by John Biscello

My mother had had a hard life. There have been many challenges, many obstacles, and in a sense you could trace their origins back to her father, her rapist. When your father is also your rapist your childhood … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, courage, family, incest, John Biscello, mother, son, story, survival, urban | Leave a comment