The Blacksmith and the Devil

Purity may be

The greatest evil

Humans ever invented.

If we’re tainted, we’re tainted

By our belief we can be—

Anything can be—tainted.

It’s partly to do with death

And partly to do with team.

They reinforce each other.

Our identities

Are Venn diagrams

Dense as children’s spirographs.

We’re wary of each other

Because we know ourselves well.

We erase from our circles

Overlapping memberships

We all maintain, all distrust

In everyone else.

Or, that’s only my excuse

For our wickedness.

Maybe there is no reason,

No naturalizing

Explanation that makes sense

Of our urge to purify

When all the world, including

Each of us, is more or less

Alloyed, and alloys

Are as useful as useless.

It’s ruthless, the way we purge

What we never can,

The way we forge holy grails,

The way we torment, torture,

Murder, burn, and fail, and fail.