Jim Carroll died in New York on Friday of a heart attack (which I've always found to be an odd turn of phrase, as though the fist of cardiac muscle has rebelled, leaping from the chest and punching its hapless owner in the nose with mythical kung fu force).
I'll confess that I've only read one work of his, the obvious one, and I will further confess that my copy has Leonardo DiCaprio on the cover. But: some books you remember, and some you don't, and after fourteen years, I still remember The Basketball Diaries:
I'll confess that I've only read one work of his, the obvious one, and I will further confess that my copy has Leonardo DiCaprio on the cover. But: some books you remember, and some you don't, and after fourteen years, I still remember The Basketball Diaries:
A note found on one of those little homework pads you cop for ten cents at Gussie's...I wrote on an experience with L.S.D. a while ago:Incidentally, I found out about Carroll's death from Dark Sky Magazine, a mutant hybrid writerly blogzine thing that you should check out."Little kids shoot marblesI found it all crumpled up in these old pants in history class this morning.
where branches break the sun
into graceful shafts of light...
I just want to be pure."
I wonder what he took with him in the end?