Humor as Grace

Whimsy steadies us more than we admit. Sometimes the pie is the sermon.

Pie Dilemma (Redemptions IV.2, Redemptions Refrain I.2)

I eat pie,

Goes to waist.

Don’t eat it,

Landfill Waste.

Disappointed,

Both things bad.

And I think

I’ve been had.

Why cannot

I eat pie,

So that no

Tastebuds die?

“No,” docs say,

“You must stop—

Every day—

Eating slop.”

What burdens

I must bear,

while others

Do not care.

But these pains,

First world stuff,

don’t matter—

I’ll get buff.

A shaped quatrain ladder of temptation and resignation; the final twist—“I’ll get buff”—turns guilt into grin.