Last Words by William S. Burroughs

Author:William S. Burroughs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
Published: 2000-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

March 17, 1997. Monday

Garbage put-out day.

Mutie is ill. The lady vet came to get her yesterday. When she wouldn’t eat, I knew she was sick.

Call today. Yes, high white [blood cell] count, couldn’t eat all day Sunday. Ate and threw up Monday morning.

Most startling discovery: a pellet in her body. Not recent, since there is no apparent entry wound. .22? Air gun? I don’t know if surgery is indicated.

Like to get my blackjack on that son of a bitch.

Like what my Wasp relations, the two Lee sons ... when my name is mentioned, they say:

“That son of a bitch.”

Contrast how the Don treats his retainers: at least a slot machine concession in Mound City, Illinois.

For me—from the “public relations” family that came up with the name of “Press Releases,” the shiny new dimes the old withered man would pass out (some smart kid should have tossed back: “Well I figure you need it more than I do.”)—bastards.

From them for me, absolute “Zilch.”

And me, ready to hit the head competitors.

The Wasps make all these laws against drugs and booze and gambling, and who creams off the gravy? Decent American bastards like me and the kid next door. Never the fucking wops, and spics, and chinks, and blacks.

And we get kicked around like Pariah dogs:

“Don’t want your type in here.”

It’s time we start taking some of that action.

Ref. The Last Don book:

Dante has a “bloody mouth”—that is, he likes to kill. One decent hit man went out with Dante on a job said:

“He pants and drools and his hair stands up and a stink steams offen him like a bitch in heat—disgust you to smell it and see it. Won’t ever again go out with that Dante, he’s a mental.”

Bad form, besides he is crazy in his blood. His mother is a real nut case—screaming, breaking plates, lying down and kicking—“one of her fits.”

You see, a hit man has to be cool. It’s just a job.

Suddenly the Mob moves into legit business, like furniture. So a competitor is giving trouble. What we do?

How he like to wake up and see his teenage daughter’s head on his bedpost? Maybe then he’ll see we is giving the best deal.

Who shot Mutie? She has a pellet in her innards.

Like to get my blackjack onto that face done that.

Keep looking.

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