Tag Archives: writing life

Coil

To caper at the edge, where the seething lyric happens, poetry with slits and fast teeth, where the hours of phenomena are boiled and reduced to a single quivering instant, an umbilical knot of light upon tenderest scraps and coils.

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taoStyling

Interview in taoStyle, revolving around Taos, New York, the writing life, and my new novel, Nocturne Variations. “Brooklyn, New York born and raised author, poet, playwright and spoken word performance artist, John Biscello, has called Taos home since 2001. The … Continue reading

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Third to First

Third person, first, first person, last, it’s time he and I met for real.

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There

Your soul’s country is much bigger than you think. Find every last you there.

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Juice

Slow kind of winter, Spring, mainlining taproot juice, hastens light to mold.

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Savor

It is that mouth, pursed, sentencing savor to burn, to kiss, between lines.

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Snapshot

(Excerpt from Raking the Dust) Seven years later, reflecting upon an analytical snapshot held up to the light: Thirty-three, unemployed, a boatload of debt, drinking excessively, divorcee, amateur plumber of shit-clogged pipe dreams—when I got my head stuck up my … Continue reading

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Meeting D.J.

(Excerpt from Raking the Dust) I see you decided to join me. I didn’t want you to drink alone. We sat at an empty table flanking the wall. The band was now playing a mournful ballad.  Something about two lovers … Continue reading

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Jean Rhys at Twilight

Nutrition fact: Did you know that windows like to eat writers who diet on silence and dust-motes, they swallow the writers whole, or in fragments, devouring them slowly, ever so slowly, until all that remains is a ghost, where a … Continue reading

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Jean Rhys

Large cats stalk authors, same as authors prey to fast– Hunger, in plain sight.

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