Birthday butter

art was disgusting to her
when it wasted materials
that could be used elsewhere
to help the poor or
feed the hungry
or when it lost all
practicality and only
took up space needed
for something more

she realized this while
cutting a stick of butter
and reflected on a film
she saw of Tibetan monks
sculpting butter into
elaborate figures and
designs to celebrate the
birth of Lord Buddha
which made her think
of all the energy spent in
creating the same beauty
to celebrate the birth of
her Lord Jesus Christ

supposedly saviors she
thought to herself while
cutting the butter into
the flour for a pie crust
putting aside her project
she spied her pill box
she remembered she forgot
and popped open the cell
for the day, spilling the pills
into her cupped palm
the tiniest pill contained
both heaven and hell in
its minute chemical cosmos
but no nirvana was found there