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Jim Carroll

Jim Carroll

Poem

Yesterday you past
into your lips... your hips and your breasts a
poor unconsummated memory.
 
we spent sick days
was tragic sometimes
sometimes was silly.
 
but sometimes it was on a sweet log
on a long walk after dinner
in your windy warm energy jeans.
 
fingers touching.

#Americans

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For Edmund Joseph Berrigan

Lovely tones of mist sweep off the channels of England and the Irish sea ring with the strength of a home, from where you are and from where
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Aunt Winnie fingers the thunder to learn

Aunt Winnie fingers the thunder t… so that we have left everything as… but not as a cloud mind steps besi… the slow reservoir now it is all of this, the pink bu…
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You’re growing up and rain sort of remains on the branches of a tree that will someday rule the earth. and that’s good
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Praying Mantis

Look at it It’s all blank The face in the photograph Too dark for features But the praying mantis
Kitten (self pity)

I hear kitten pawing Cheap rug above my head The plain fact, you see, He is one flight closer To a moon than I becomes
Love Story

The penalty for desertion is death by a firing squad. I’m saving you this trouble enclosed is a pistol. loaded with only one bullet.
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8 Fragments for Kurt Cobain

1/ Genius is not a generous thing In return it charges more interest… And it resents fame With bitter vengeance
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Breakfast Poem

First morning air of ocean grief down Brighton Ave. flow like soli… raft through calm river . . . Bus… engine in the grey expanse garage… this stuttering earth . . ..
Dealers

Ju-jus weaned on jargon of light w… Quasi-larcenous and petite . . . acquiesce under parasols the tudor… of ultra-mexicans bespecled in polaroid filter . . . clandestine…
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I'm Living Inside Again

fuzzy jingles snail themselves to a brain leave . . . munch in cute arcs tired riffs of t.v. s… mutts snore under finger tips a rush of familiars
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A Fragment

When I see a rabbit crushed by a moving van I have dreams of maniac computers miscalculating serious items pertinent to our lives.
The Tenth Try

I owe a lot to someone I’ve watch her tear full like an icarus it was like a star which is the sun
For John Wieners

We read life’s style review shaking from pacts drawn up in past to weep for lost loves



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