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June 30, 2018

Emmenez-moi votre mère, pour que je puisse vous refaire

Allen Ginsberg interviews William S. Burroughs.

We sat with towels in the black dark smoky plastic igloo bower, laced with twig skeleton covered with black plastic, a fire pit in center. Bill sat by the entrance as the big-bellied shaman went ’round the tent thanking each one there, Bill first, for inviting him to share the grandfathers’ medicine and again giving him the opportunity to drive the bad spirit out of Bill’s life and body. Then he prayed to the grandfathers, water, earth, rocks and green coal. So Melvin prayed to the creator, the grandfathers, the elements, to help Bill on his way, make his way easy when it’s time for him to go back to the creator, make him strong to live a long long time, and to us all to think of Bill and send him our healing thoughts, get rid of the bad element that was in the coal, send the bad spirit back to the one who’d put it in Bill, maybe an animal, maybe someone angry. The spirit was caught, jiggled in the shrill flute & blown into the fire. Put the spirit into the rocky fire pit still glowing, steaming with cedar-fragrant smoke in our eyes.

Posted by Ghost of a flea at June 30, 2018 05:47 PM