I have known enough saints
to know they fall
just like the rest of us.
They fail to see the mud
globbed on their feet
and leave their footprints
on the Persian rugs.
They slurp their shakes.
They hold their share of doctrines
based on anger, fear, pride
and sloppy scholarship.
They scribble their biases and misconceptions
into unbaked clay
and offer them as the Added Commandments.
Their towers are indeed towers to God,
but they have basements in Hell.
It takes the potential for great evil
to reach the potential for great good.
The guard dog is sister to the wolf.
Bleach is deadly if swallowed.
Razor blades clean legs and open wrists.
Only innocence is built on innocence.
Forgiveness is built on guilt.