What a gorgeous memory! Thank you for sharing. Lost items are a theme in my life, so the miracle of the returned scarf touched me. And, Happy Birthday, Bill.
That’s a beautiful memory. It must be a strange sensation to be famous and lose a dear friend who is also famous, feel what you feel but then experience strangers with an adoration for your friend. It has a parasocial tone to it, sincere but he was your friend. Don’t know if that makes sense.
I enjoyed a cd I once owned with Kurt Cobain playing guitar while William Burroughs recited his poetry, “and the priest they called him.” Powerful.
William also popped up in the book Driving Mr. Albert. Has anyone read that? Have you, Patti? It’s fascinating. Happy Birthday William. Thank you for sharing that story Patti ❤️
Just the most beautiful thing to wake up to. Must have been quite a night in the Paradiso, l could imagine you all there. The story is lovely and very touching, can’t quite get the scarf out of my head! Happy Birthday to William. Thank you Patti and much love from London 🙏
What a beautiful and extraordinary memory - thank you for sharing it and providing a reason to celebrate William Burrows. It was wonderful to remember reading Naked Lunch in 1971 at 17, just the drug my brain needed at that moment.
I just purchased Junkie and Queer along with a few more of William's work/ just finished book of days and M train am reading year of the monkey/ next is bread of angels/ I bought about 35-40 books all at once/ Kerouac and Ginsberg kaufman and others/ So many good people lost/ sad sad sad
What a tender piece. That image of Brion mourning the scarf and then the light hitting your cloth from Kashmir later is perfect. Made me think how objects carry whole lifetimes in them, and how losing something beloved can feel like losing the person twice.That part with the clarinet too, sitting there playing while Brion listened, feels so intimate.
Thank you for another fine piece of writing and tribute to Burroughs.
I lived for many years in the same Kansas town as Burroughs and benefitted from his residence there. Though we had been formally introduced and I sat in on his casual salon type gatherings on campus, I can’t say that I knew him. He was a presence and I often saw him walking downtown and browsing in the one and only bookstore & newsstand. Burroughs did occasional public readings and once there was a week long event called The River City Reunion which brought in many luminaries from all over the place to perform. That was very enjoyable.
This is lovely writing. I can picture this silk scarf and its glowing colors and how much it meant to Brion - like losing an old friend. Thank you, Patti!
What a gorgeous memory! Thank you for sharing. Lost items are a theme in my life, so the miracle of the returned scarf touched me. And, Happy Birthday, Bill.
This piece feels like sitting beside someone as they open a box of old memories, each one still glowing.
There’s such tenderness in the way she recalls those nights wandering streets, shared smoke, small rituals of friendship.
The lost scarf becomes more than an object; it’s a whole life folded into silk, a piece of someone’s heart gone missing.
Bill’s gentle way of comforting Brion says everything about the depth of their bond.
The clarinet moment is beautiful two people drifting through memory together, held by sound and trust.
You can feel how those nights shaped her, how the smallest details still carry warmth decades later.
The shift to the present brings a quiet ache, the kind that comes when the people who once filled a room now live only in memory.
The tulips, the canals, the worn cloth they all become little portals back to the men she loved and learned from.
Her grief is soft, almost luminous, woven with gratitude rather than despair.
By the end, you feel her mourning not just Bill and Brion, but an entire era of shared breath, shared rooms, shared wonder.
That’s a beautiful memory. It must be a strange sensation to be famous and lose a dear friend who is also famous, feel what you feel but then experience strangers with an adoration for your friend. It has a parasocial tone to it, sincere but he was your friend. Don’t know if that makes sense.
I enjoyed a cd I once owned with Kurt Cobain playing guitar while William Burroughs recited his poetry, “and the priest they called him.” Powerful.
William also popped up in the book Driving Mr. Albert. Has anyone read that? Have you, Patti? It’s fascinating. Happy Birthday William. Thank you for sharing that story Patti ❤️
Happy Birthday dear Bill
Just the most beautiful thing to wake up to. Must have been quite a night in the Paradiso, l could imagine you all there. The story is lovely and very touching, can’t quite get the scarf out of my head! Happy Birthday to William. Thank you Patti and much love from London 🙏
Thank you Patti. You are a continuous shine of hope in a world that can be so dark.
So lively and blissful to read 🙏
Very beautiful, thank you for sharing these thoughts.
What a beautiful and extraordinary memory - thank you for sharing it and providing a reason to celebrate William Burrows. It was wonderful to remember reading Naked Lunch in 1971 at 17, just the drug my brain needed at that moment.
I just purchased Junkie and Queer along with a few more of William's work/ just finished book of days and M train am reading year of the monkey/ next is bread of angels/ I bought about 35-40 books all at once/ Kerouac and Ginsberg kaufman and others/ So many good people lost/ sad sad sad
The scarf as a trace, the clarinet as a breath that keeps the third mind alive — thank you for letting us stand in that light.
What a tender piece. That image of Brion mourning the scarf and then the light hitting your cloth from Kashmir later is perfect. Made me think how objects carry whole lifetimes in them, and how losing something beloved can feel like losing the person twice.That part with the clarinet too, sitting there playing while Brion listened, feels so intimate.
How can heartache be lovely yet here we are
A touch of life speaks volumes
Thank you for another fine piece of writing and tribute to Burroughs.
I lived for many years in the same Kansas town as Burroughs and benefitted from his residence there. Though we had been formally introduced and I sat in on his casual salon type gatherings on campus, I can’t say that I knew him. He was a presence and I often saw him walking downtown and browsing in the one and only bookstore & newsstand. Burroughs did occasional public readings and once there was a week long event called The River City Reunion which brought in many luminaries from all over the place to perform. That was very enjoyable.
This is lovely writing. I can picture this silk scarf and its glowing colors and how much it meant to Brion - like losing an old friend. Thank you, Patti!