Burns Taylor


Best selling author of Blood and Money  and Serpentine, Thomas Thompson wrote:

“Dear Burns:

Your book proposal probably has more merit and potential than any I have received this semester. It is also without doubt the most difficult to accomplish. I believe you have the stuff to do it.

I am delighted to see the humor displayed here. It reminds me of the Kesey-Kerouac-Ginsberg era. By all means, keep it in and then some.”

     “J. Town! Juazoo!  Juaritos!  Call it what you would.  Juarez, Mexico, in those tumultuous times, was like an aging, overweight prostitute on the make:  lustful, eager to bargain, determined to give satisfaction.  And we abused her wantonly--buying up her magic, her music, her bargains with our Gringo dollars.  With her sideshows and aphrodisiacs, we vaccinated ourselves against the lunacy of the times--of Nixon, of George Wallace, of the war in Vietnam. 
     But though you scoffed at the gaudiness and ridiculed her blatant harlotry, sooner or later, Juarez always had her way with you.  Sooner or later--at a bullfight or a strip show or an all-night mariachi bar--she bled her soul into yours a little and filled you with her madness.” 

Excerpt from Across a Bridge From the Sixties by W. Burns Taylor, One Eye Eight, 1994.

... I wandered over to the pen where Spike and I had played
together--child and fawn. The gate dangled open, the hinge gone loose at
the bottom. The dry ground bristled with stubble and patches of dry weeds
that crackled beneath my shoe souls like potato chips.
The pen was empty now and I was pretty sure Spike was gone forever.
And something in me had gone away with him, too--that boyish part of me that
had to do with innocence and trust. I could feel myself hardening against
the pain of loss I felt as I fought back the tears. ...

Excerpt from Wild Velvet: Winner of the National Creative Nonfiction Prize, 2011


Other Writings on the Web

  1. The Braille Forum, July-August 2004