The poet and punk rocker Jim Carroll (famous for writing The Basketball Diaries) died on Friday at the age of 60. He lived hard and fast, died young and fast. He was wild and free and often scared the shit out of me. He was raw and on the edge, a junkie staring into the darkness.
And what if he had seen that in fact there is no edge?
I wrote a poem about him, posted at http://rewords.blogspot.com/