Reprint: Mad God Disease (sonnet)

Notre Dame fire 2019
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Here at the end of time, as measured
by successive falling empires, half-notes
tumbling from a fading horn, the goats
of our tragedy are now untethered
and all that's left of god is his disease --
madness, gone viral, at the moat of the mind
that divides being and not, a twice-bound
vexation, a coup de grace, if you please.
At the threshold of new human being
trading in one darkness for another,
like a transubstantiative other
released from bonds, we become the seeing.
All around us cathedrals are tumbling --
stoned gods, dying notes, aeons crumbling.