A gravedigger need not be grave. Nor need
He be alone. Horatio stood alone and grave;
Hamlet had wanted him to ‘stay center stage,’
As he put it. ‘Sententious, stentorian
And smiling.’ Elsinore was a war.
Now he wanted more. ‘A play is the thing.
To kill a king’. He wanted real proof before
He and Yorick could ‘off the fool’. He wanted
‘A truth with truth’. And more. Horatio knew
What was wrong. That fucking ghost could be
Just about anything, a stray specter,
A glint of light in the wrong eye, a rip in
In God’s fabric, anything. Anselm’s proof
Of God had proved it all. Existence was
That which cannot be allowed to fall.
But soft…for a mise-en-abysm to work—
And this is surely what Hamlet must have had
In mind—a crazy quilt of reflections
Would have to be in place. The entirety
Of Elsinore’s sin would be needed. El-sin-ore.