by William S. Burroughs
(hear Burroughs read his poem)
“To John Dillinger and I hope he is still alive.
Thanksgiving Day, November 28, 1986.”
Thanks for the wild turkey and
the passenger pigeons, destined
to be shit out through wholesome
American guts.
Thanks for a continent to despoil
and poison.
Thanks for Indians to provide a
modicum of challenge and
danger.
Thanks for vast herds of bison to
kill and skin leaving the
carcasses to rot.
Thanks for bounties on wolves
and coyotes.
Thanks for the American dream,
To vulgarize and falsify until
the bare lies shine through.
Thanks for the KKK.
For nigger-killin’ lawmen,
feelin’ their notches.
For decent church-goin’ women,
with their mean, pinched, bitter,
evil faces.
Thanks for “Kill a Queer for
Christ” stickers.
Thanks for laboratory AIDS.
Thanks for Prohibition and the
war against drugs.
Thanks for a country where
nobody’s allowed to mind his
own business.
Thanks for a nation of finks.
Yes, thanks for all the
memories– all right let’s see
your arms!
You always were a headache and
you always were a bore.
Thanks for the last and greatest
betrayal of the last and greatest
of human dreams.
I have always liked Burroughs. And, although my dial-up is too slow to listen, I am familiar with his spoken word recordings in the 90s, and he is one of thse rare writers who is gifted with a voice that does justice to his words.
Hi ABO,
This poem I like and his delivery is, as you say, rarified and just.
If you follow the link to Professor Fabio Girelli-Carasi’s website you’ll find an Italian language course. It’s the first one I’ve come upon online that’s free. Now, if I could figure out how to add another 12 hours or so to the day, I’d be rolling r’s in no time.
Peace
I wish I had known about that B4 my trip to Italy a year ago. All I learned was ‘grazi,’ ‘bon giorno,’ and ‘una litre vino rossi, por favore!’