Bill Burroughs, charley Plymell and James Grauerholz
"We had to do a special grocery shopping for Ginsberg, who spent most of the time at dinner talking about his special diet that had to be sugar free. They were both asked earlier on stage at Kansas University in Lawrence what their favorite line was in all literature. Bill answered, "Tomorrow,tomorrow tomorrow," and Allen answered "That in black ink my love may still shine bright." After dinner, we reflect and I thought Bill's lines were all too familiar to describe what one goes through trying to score, but of course it had greater connotations. Allen tried to remember and recite the sonnet his lines came from, but couldn't. I said it was easier if he started at the beginning and recited the whole sonnet which I began to do. About halfway through Bill started figiting with his hand in his pocket of his.38 Special. James put his hand on his shoulder to comfort him and whispered "let him finish". Bill wasn't known for liking poetry that much as such, especially my long recital. I laughed to myself while continuing the sonnet, imagining and old cowboy western movie I'd seen where the guy got on stage out in Nevada or somewhere reciting Shakespeare and a drunken cowboy pulled out his revolver to shoot as his feet. They were both impressed at my reciting the whole sonnet.
Soon the Kansas moon lit the sky and Bill was prowling around outside in his pyjamas while James and I talked under a Cottonwood tree. When we came back in, Allen was offered some desert with us, and he reminded us that he must not eat sugar. Bill had been showing off the famous skull from Mexico carved from sugar. I quipped, "At least Allen won't eat your skull!" That got a big chuckle from Bill, who replied in that flat St. Louis voice, "No. Ginsberg won't eat my skull."
That was the last dinner Bill and Allen would have together. It embodied the love that he would later write on his funuary card."
Charles Plymell, "SOME MOTHERS' SONS", http://www.cherryvalleyeditions.com/