A smirk tumbling out of simmering glee?
Yes I was among the first 26,743,226
to feel joy when Notre Dame burned,
A spire collapsed shooting fireballs
through the attic, crashing the crosses,
Yellow flames licked the towers
and tickled my giggle bone,
From what abominations the fire sparked?
Of what burnt and musty stench like earth
where children are buried unmarked?
Rats running from their snuggle spots,
The ancient rot to their liking,
Dirty sins in the Savior’s name purified
Plastic icons oozed and bubbled black,
and is the toxic smoke pleasing to God?
The grand Dame’s construction marked
two hundred years of persecution
of expulsion, return and expulsion.
Built on the bones and bank notes
of two centuries of violation,
feeding off the destruction
and exile of the Jews.
I won’t be contributing to the Church
where kings were crowned,
Where the crown of thorns stands in state.
Ask me again when plans include
a health center for family planning
and care for survivors of priestly abuse.
My joy only muted by the despair of the faithful
and knowing the stinking thing will rise as before.
Corey Weinstein’s poetry has been published in Vistas and Byways, The New Verse News, Our California 2024, The Ekphrastic Review, Forum (City College of San Francisco), California State Poetry Society, Visitant, Abandoned Mine, Speak Poetry of San Mateo County, California State Poetry Society and Jewish Currents, and he wrote and performed a singspiel called Erased: Babi Yar, the SS and Me. He has been an advocate for prisoner rights and founded California Prison Focus, and he led the American Public Health Association’s Prison Committee for many years. In his free time, he hosts San Francisco OLLI’s Poetry Interest Group and plays the clarinet in his local jazz band, Tandem, his synagogue choir and woodwind ensembles.
