Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Álvaro Jaramillo

It won’t be long now before the sky falls crashing into the world. Its been a while; its time. No feast nor heavenly prayer, beggaring for God’s Will, will stop the falling. The sky is the new behemoth. After the feast, which lasted three days and four nights, the Witness gathered his things and headed into the hills beyond the five-mile fence. As pamphleteering had taken a fall, most people now more interested in hi-fi and Hamm radio, he decided he needed some time to come up with other ways to garner souls. Sequestered in the hills above the canyon floor he built a makeshift lean-to with overhanging eaves and a barrel to catch rainwater, a wicker cot and a table to spread out his plans on, the table covered in oilskin, the cot in lanolin soaked hemp. No one missed him, not a scattered soul. ‘His Will wills’, thought the Witness, ‘so I will willeth He who Willeth Will. A tailless dog scurried past, its hind fur scabby with shit and caked mud. The Witness came down from the hills a new man, a bundle of new pamphlets curried under his arm. No one noticed as no one cared that he had left. He had a notion, and with this notion he would change the world forever. ‘I hast returned’ he said aloud for all to hear, ‘beholdeth the new behemoth’.

While in town to oversee the assembly of the Lecumberri Apothecary Álvaro Jaramillo rented a room over the Dogmen Deli. And it was in that room over the deli that he took his life. Doctor Graz Steiermark, who that week happened to be passing through town, trussed the corpse, draining it of fluids: emesis, earwax, peptides, mucous, spit and slobber, sebum, sweat, semen and tears, and signed the death certificate. A small service was held in the basement of the Church of the Perpetual Sinner, an unidentified woman and the assistant to the assistant rector the only two to attend. Before taking his life Álvaro Jaramillo made a pact with the Witness, he promised that if he, Álvaro Jaramillo, took his life so to would the Witness take his own. As it happened many of the townsfolk thinking they had made a pact with Álvaro Jaramillo took their lives, the Witness seeing this as a sign from Yahweh that he was off scot-free.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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