November 24, 2014

The Grave Robber

By Alex Longstreth

The Grave Robber
121 One night a broken grave robber
set out to claim his prize.
A mission yielding gold and gems
would quell his appetite.
125 A newly laid archbishopric
had lost its budding chief.
The funeral at noon that day
precludes the robber’s sneak.
He strapped his boots, pulled on his gloves,
130 he donned his shadow mask,
and when the clock struck 12 that night
he sought his greedy task.
The winding streets of sleepy town
obscured the burglar’s quest.
135 A cat, he crept up to the church
to prey on gruesome death.
The handle of the giant door
was locked by key of brass.
The heaven-peaked high window glass
140 nor yet would let him pass.
A secret way into the shrine
is known to gnostic few:
brave men descend to hidden depths
and crawl a tunnel through.
145 This man raised up a sewer grate
and shimmied down the hole.
He paddled to a foul rat nest,
brushed vermin down below.
Thus he revealed a secret cave,
150 a fox hole to the crypts.
He crossed into an open room
inhabited by lichs.
The ghosts of priests and holy men
laid tranquilly at rest;
155 the tremor of their peaceful guilt
panged lightly on his chest.
Continue on, the end is near,
step up the sacred stairs
and enter the impressive nave.
160 Fulfill your evening dares.
He stood before the archbishop,
all clad in silk and gold,
who lie asleep, an endless deep –
his flesh corrupt and cold.
165 The thief knew of the saint’s great deeds,
but naught would sway his aim.
The crook was focused on his task:
his rushed larcenous game.
He took the crozier and the ring;
170 he took the clothes and all.
The high and pious man laid nude
like Eden at the Fall.
Now to escape before the dawn,
back just the way he came!
175 The robber wound back through the streets
and to his home again.
That bandit never was ensnared.
The township’s heart was lost.
What started as one man’s grave sins
180 came at a graver cost.

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