The Clown May Be The

The Kind Of Power Mothers Have Is Enormous. Take The Skyline Of Istanbul - Enormous Breasts, Pathetic Little Willies, A Final Revenge On Islam. I Was So Scared I Had To Crouch In The Bottom Of The Boat When I Saw It.

For All Cats Have This Particularity, Each And Every One, From The Meanest Alley Sneaker To The Proudest, Whitest She That Ever Graced A Pontiff's Pillow — We Have Our Smiles, As It Were, Painted On. Those Small, Cool, Quite Mona Lisa Smiles That Smile We Must, No Matter Whether It's Been Fun Or It's Been Not. So All Cats Have A Politician's Air; We Smile And Smile And So They Think We're Villains

We Must Not Blame Our Poor Symbols If They Take Forms That Seem Trivial To Us, Or Absurd, ... However Paltry They May Be; The Nature Of Our Life Alone Has Determined Their Forms.

I Drew The Curtains To Conceal The Sight Of My Father's Farewell; My Spite Was Sharp As Broken Glass.

Cats Of All Kinds Weave In And Out Of The Text; Burroughs Has Clearly Taken To Them In A Big Way In His Old Age And Seems Torn Between A Fear They Will Betray Him Into Sentimentality And A Resigned Acceptance That A Man Can't Be Ironic All The Time.