January 31, 2010
To love myself, I must love the different and unknown.
We are close as strangers; I don’t know you when you laugh, or droop, or weep, or sing, or sin, or how you keep when I am gone, or where you go when I return. What stone tower, smooth and white and unadorned is this that [...]
Filed under: biography, pilcrow, poetry, writing | Comments (1)
January 28, 2009
Click, Clack, Letters and numbers press the soft pads of fingers
Curiosity stirs. A knickknack. A vase. Dirt? No.
Clear vial, nearly transparent.
Orangish hue. Lid is indeed removable. Pestle like. Inside a thick sand, with sea shells? No.
Closer inspection.
Hmm, perhaps the remains of wood changed state? No.
Attempts to secure the pestle in it’s place, sealing contents.
Tough, gritty, [...]
Filed under: Hansel, writing | Comments (2)
September 30, 2008
Someday, old and baggy-sad
I’ll slip on air,
land on earth,
shatter shoulder, hip or pelvis,
plant my bones and sprout a stone above the ground
Or I will wear so thin and slight that light
will fade me out completely
I will then address all shades and spots as
brothers, nieces, long-dead mothers
All things old and treasured,
patterned silver, china, linens
doctors, deacons, soldiers, [...]
Filed under: fiction, pilcrow, poetry, writing | Comments (2)
August 30, 2008
The girl who sat in front of Max one row over could crack her knuckles in five different ways. None of them seemed to work for Max. He watched now as she carelessly grasped two fingers at once: she was about to do the double crack. He followed her actions with his own hands—secretly, under [...]
Filed under: Acheté, fiction, writing | Comments (1)
August 19, 2008
“Damn it Jim … she’s a zombie!”
“It doesn’t matter. I love her. What do you have against zombies anyway? Just because they’re
undead doesn’t mean they aren’t human.”
“Zombies are not human, Jim. They are the living dead! They are abominations!”
“Sticks and stones.”
“Your attraction to an animated corpse is absolutely disgusting. I mean, she’s rotting for heaven’s sake!”
“In [...]
Filed under: V. POOH 10, family, fiction, satire, writing | Comments (3)
July 2, 2008
Hour after hour, her fingers dance on the keyboard. Rarely, she glances
around, and only hastily does she get up to hunt around for snacks, which
she consumes quickly. There are pizza-stained paper plates on the counter
and empty cereal bowls on the floor, spoons glued into the hardened milk.
When her hair slips from its ponytail, she deftly [...]
Filed under: Zephyr, fiction, satire, writing | Comments (4)
June 25, 2008
to Eric
A bridge of smoldering macadam from curb to curb, the air heady and saturated with gasoline vapor. The boys jump through air shimmering thinly as the setting sun at the horizon, with every leap the rubber soles of their Reebok Pumps growing gooier. Girls with long bangs and french braids squeal, breathing heated antics [...]
Filed under: biography, pilcrow, writing | Comments (2)
May 26, 2008
M interviews D about their complicated relationship, and hand-licking.
Filed under: fiction, pilcrow, species spotlight, writing | Comments (6)
May 21, 2008
Zephyr, a new contributor to The Buttered Slice, shares poetry about kissing her son’s cheek.
Filed under: Zephyr, poetry, writing | Comments (7)
May 10, 2008
Drizzle outside, Sports Center muted on the TV inside. The spoon handle rims around the empty can of cold soup as it clatters to the table. A few bits of bacony bean paste linger on the handle, past the reach of your last bite. Yellow buzzing street lights outside, refracted dancing shadows inside. [...]
Filed under: Squid, fiction, writing | Comments (6)
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