Beat writer William S. Burroughs was born on this day in 1914. Here is a graphic with the poem I wrote on August 2, 1997, the day Burroughs died.
Burroughs is the subject of a new biography, Call Me Burroughs: A Life by Barry Miles. Michael Dirda in his Washington Post review of the book says that Burroughs “even now remains one of the most influential writers of the 20th century.”
Burroughs was a seriously demented character . . . but he loved cats. He once wrote, “The cat does not offer services. The cat offers itself. Of course he wants care and shelter. You don’t buy love for nothing.”