Discover more from The Loaf, with Tim Kreider
'Twas The Night Before Easter
A Christ-in-Hell Day© Poem
‘Twas the night before Easter, and all throughout Hell
Not a sinner was stirring, in dungeon or cell.
The liars were hung by their thumbs over pits
While traitors slow-roasted rotating on spits.
For blasphemers it was no day at the beach
As visions of mercy danced just out of reach.
And Ma in her irons, and I on my rack
Had just been selected as succulent snacks
When down from the gates there arose such a row
That I craned up my neck to see who’d been damned now.
My tendons in pain from the bite of my yoke,
I squinted my eyes to peer up through the smoke.
The gates, groaning open, pond’rous and slow,
Cast a ray of lost daylight on th’ torment below.
The scenes it illumined, grotesque and depraved,
Made me wish that in life I’d been better behaved.
When what to my watering eyes did appear
But a radiant figure, armed with a spear!
From the holes in His palms and his garb rent at dice
I knew in an instant it must be The Christ!
The rough crown of thorns that He wore on His head
Lent a dolorous mien to His face as it bled.
The wound in His side and His holy stigmata
Were glist’ning and clotted like fresh-made ricotta.
With a sniff of disgust at the sulfurous air,
He took in the lay of His Enemy’s lair.
He called to that angel who’d fallen from grace:
“Hey, Lucifer—love what you’ve done with the place!”
But Satan had stepped out for lunch, said a sign:
Sorry I missed you! Will catch you next time!
With the Devil away on a hasty vacation,
Christ the Redeemer laid down some salvation.
The Pagans swarmed ‘round him and clung to his hem
And pled for deliv’rance from the Condemned.
His countenance grave, eyes ablaze, arms akimbo,
He summoned the Righteous who’d long been in Limbo:
“Come, Moses! Come, David! Abraham, too!
Socrates, Plato! Confucius! Lao-Tsu!
Buddha and Krishna—you two are with me!
Find Zoroaster and tell him he’s free!
From the lip of the pit, to the mouth of the gate,
Let’s move you all up to higher-end real estate!”
Then, dark’ning with wrath, He passed divine sentence
On Sinners who’d scorned every chance at repentance:
“As for Herod and Pharaoh, Nimrod, Goliath—
You guys were all assholes! In fire you may frieth!
Enjoy getting tortured by gremlins and kobolds!
I give you the chances of Infernal snowballs!”
Then spake He unto his Preterite band:
“Come—let us bloweth this popsicle stand!”
Then, with his raiment now shining and mended,
He arose from the depths and toward Heav’n ascended.
Like a waterspout whirling up out of a lake,
The hosts of the Saved were drawn up in his wake.
I watched as they dwindled, with envy and rue,
‘Til they all disappeared in a last glimpse of blue.
All hope now abandoned, the iron gate shut,
I knew in my heart that I truly was fuck’d.
Then I heard Him call out, in benedict’ry farewell:
“Christ in Hell Day to all, and to all, Go to Hell!"
Thanks for reading The Loaf, with Tim Kreider! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.