Evil: An Interpretation

I’m lecturing my 7-year-old on evil, again. 
I don’t think he understands. He thinks horror 
is the shadow, not the man rounding the corner, 

looking familiar, maybe even saying hello. 
Monsters of his device play for the scare. 
The portrait with three heads, three horns each, 

each impaling a skull. So, I must tell him
his stick figures are upsetting his teacher. 
So, he considers a new aesthetic. Today’s piece 

interprets the origins of fire. Smoke spirals  
up from a mess of black rings and crayon. 
Scribbled mercilessly, “Cold Run.” 

He can’t spell cauldron but boils something. 
He titles it, “Devel.” There’s a man in slacks
and what looks like a quarter zip.  

Stirring the pot, a classmate in a hoodie. 
A kid with hair over his eyes looks like the boss.  
I ask who’s that and he just stares back.