I’ve been feeling lately—
kinda dumb,
twiddling my thumbs
alone
near the Oak of Memory,
mortified
as Our Father felled the tree.

Notre Dame was burning—
what a sight,
as it gave off light
and heat.
I felt my stomach churning,
my face turning white;
still, it was alright by me.

Circumambulation
on the left-hand side
grants me ample time
to breathe,
to parse the information
out of endless lies
borne of human pride
and need.