Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: butter

March 27, 2023

The Shallow End of the Boiling Pot

total darkness
makes lobsters happy as they boil in plasma
anxiously awaiting butter logs stacking
up along the edges of existence;
poured down the side until cleanliness
means something akin to tastiness

but miracles are for the blind
blistering in an enchanted quagmire planned out on a napkin and thrown out, with prejudice

March 6, 2022

Butter My Biscuits

everything great that I could ever say or do

has already been said

and done

and thought

and felt

and died

the way two pieces of toast collide to

(create a moment of silence)

made possible by a shit ton of butter gone rancid

but not too bad if you don’t think about it