William S Burroughs : Thanksgiving Prayer

by duncanr

though written 30 years ago, some would argue that – given recent events in the USA – this prayer is no less relevant now as it was back then . . .

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 carcass 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-killing lawmen feeling their notches, for decent church-going 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 is allowed to mind his own business
thanks for a nation of finks—yes,
thanks for all the memories all right, lets 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.

5 Comments to “William S Burroughs : Thanksgiving Prayer”

  1. I swear. I’ve met this guy. Many times.

    On each of these occasions it’s been when I’ve entered a pub.

    There he is, sitting by himself at a corner table, nursing a pint. Within five minutes he’s standing by my side and, with a sigh, starts on.

    I expect many other readers have bumped into him at their local, too.


  2. Has anybody ever seen this bloke and George Orwell in the same room at the same time?

    Miserable, wrinkly old bastards, the pair of ’em.

    Oooh! Hang on a minute . . .

    Has anybody ever seen this bloke, George Orwell or ratty in the same room at the same time?


    • “In the same room ?” – You call that a fucking room ? ! ?

      The wallpaper consists of a pissy floral design, shows signs of mould and, I swear, is starting to peal off because of the inherent damp. There’s hardly any light able to come in through the filthy windows, the floor is covered in dust and squeeks horribly when you try to walk about and . . .


  3. ‘peal’?

    Maybe I should try using the new translation thing to convert that last comment into English.


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