Bellarmino's Fob

(inspirada por J.E.Pacheco)


The Great Bellarmino felt numbers

in his teeth, bouncing off his shoulders

raining from above

everything a number

since the clock started, sped, then blurred

a One or a Zed, ever accumulating

Bellarmino the Great

began to swim

deliriously

In a plaza

they rifled the crowd

no one recalled

he tripped a pidgin

tied it to a dove

and a tortoise

the flowers ate the bees

and began to sting

but did nothing to the dead

The crowd hushed

the Great Bellarmino

was on the wire

the eyes from under trees

that never blink

were there too

and Bellarmino the Great

couldn't look down

so he fastend mirrors to his shoes

The wire was the skin of a snake

and that: a rock

and that: the sun

he tripped and flew

the Great Bellarmino

the Great

didn't look down

the movements of the bewildered buddha

I walked into my bathroom, opened the mirrored cabinet over the sink, the place where razors are stored, and there looking out at me was a figurine with an animated expression. He was dressed in a monks robe, and immediately I thought he should be wearing instead, a cloak made from paper san Pellegrino labels. I took him in my hand.

His expression never flinched from complete bewilderment. He came to be perched atop the Spectro-Chrome medical light projector, next to the little golden buddha, above the glass shortwave face plates from Czechoslovakia. There—with his begging bowl, his springy staff, and his dazed and humored look he governed Lake Michigan; until,

Brig and I started talking about Iconography, and we even came to discover that in the field of Art therapy impetus is building to do a thorough peer review of Iconographilia; the affliction of only being able to create what has already been done. We spoke on the phone about this.

And she said she wanted to paint my iconography, which is made up of two items: the chubby-cheeked Buddha (as he has come to be called, a.k.a: the Lion); and the other—a nearly petrified Clementine (also known as the Heart, and Brigid will still refer to it as a mandarine...but they were the ones from Spain, coming in those little crates...which makes me try and remeber what the hell they were called in Spain, and I can't remeber...well) that I’ve been hanging on to, in hopes of seeing its final state; as it is now going on four to five months and continues to be remarkably round, still has an orange hue to it, and as it drys its compacting... a race has begun between a spot of darkness I take as a mold... perhaps not so interesting--but personal.

Both of these things have been conveyed to a studio at the university and are going to be studied and documented. The small golden buddha joined them for the outing, but will not be part of the portrait resulting from the sitting, as iconographal representation is limited to two items. And I wonder where they will get off to next. They've embarked on a trip--now that's iconography that works.

l'a-ro

To: Bonsai Kitten


Fellow researchers,

I am excited to report that testing is being
conducted on Northern lakes in the United States
and Canada with  Bonsai Kitties.  As ice fishing
season got underway a brilliant scientist saw an
opportunity to send encapsulated kitties down
below to act as fish finders.  They have since been
outlawed in competitions (in the European Union);
which only confirms their application for the
leisure angler. Sadly, some kitties were lost while
still working out the details of the tether.  But the
beacons are active and professionals are standing
by to respond with expert medical care.  After the
spring thaw is underway, balloons will inflate bringing
the brave litter to the surface.

Investors will not be refused.


CC: The Friars




Lastly, from time to time I stumble on found
poetry; words never intended as poetry that
are exactly that.  I see these things in
supermarkets, newspapers, the net,
somewhere as text. The following samples were
found on a chat board on the World Metal
Alliance website—an odd place.
Enough, the poetry:

Gas. Cubicle. Stain. Lint. Corporate. Hell.

I HATE

Spammers. Terrorists. Underwear. Price-checks