William Burroughs Poems

Hit Title Date Added
Where Flesh Circulates

Its so hard to remember in the world - - Weren't you there? Dead so you

think of ports - - Couldn't reach flesh - - Might have to reach flesh from

anybody - -

Pistol Poem No. 2

Who Controls The Control Men
Who Controls The Men Control
Who Controls Control Men The
Who Controls Control The Men
Who Controls Men The Control

Cut-Up Poems from Minutes to Go

at land coccus germs
by a bacilmouth Jersy phenicol bitoics
the um vast and varied that
specific target was the vast popul - - - -

Cold Lost Marbles

my ice skates on a wall
lustre of stumps washes his lavander horizon
he's got a handsome face of a lousy kid
rooming-houses dirty fingers

My Legs Señor

attic room and window my ice skates on the wall
the Priest could see the bathroom pale yellow wood panels
toilet young legs shiny black leg hairs
"It is my legs señor."

Fear and the Monkey

This text arranged in my New York loft, which is the converted locker room of an old YMCA. Guests have reported the presence of a ghost boy. So this is a Oui-Ja board poem taken from Dumb Instrument, a book of poems by Denton Welch, and spells and invocations from the Necronomicon, a highly secret magical text released in paperback. There is a pinch of Rimbaud, a dash of St-John Perse, an oblique reference to Toby

Dead Whistle Stop Already End

Ahab to his companion falling over there in any out from the dawn

skin staring stirring unbelief he strode towards a long

Spain & 42 St.

Language like muttering pant smells running silver scanning

Passed down the Arab Street in the gutter patterns

Pistol Poem No. 3

Power Is Often Very Quiet
Power Is Often Quiet Very
Power Is Very Quiet Often
Power Is Very Often Quiet
Power Is Quiet Often Very

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