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Jim Carroll’s Ass

Nothing seems real  yet I’m willing

to play ‘the real’ game for ones I love

and when I’m sick I go get pills

but more and more hovering above it I’m

and then is it a question of for who that’s why

I no longer have memories I don’t care about them

though I can contrive more but I don’t

belong in them anymore  ‘Do you really think


everyone is benighted?’ someone in effect asked

I guess I said yes  what emanates from me

is crackling love electrical currents an aliveness

everything else I do remember playing games

Pac-Man at midnight in the months before Ted died

Jim Carroll’s favorite being Ms. Pac-Man

one has an official position that humanity’s history

has erroneously deemed women untalented


ineffectual at its projects over literally millions

of years therefore humanity’s likely to be ‘wrong’

about anything no everything and nothing what-

soever is happening except for pain isn’t this

ridiculous yet I like to remember Jim Carroll

mooning Ted at the entrance to Julian’s Billiard Academy

the first time I met him he was showing off for me

and had a pearly ass this is cerebrality


but not within the time frame of my research

Somewhere in a room outside this whole place earth

an infinitely large unshaped one

this poem already written is being translated

through tubes or pathways into my mind or heart

I am and it’s all covered  by me who already wrote it

I don’t have an audience we are a membrane of re-

ceptive contiguity abstract abstractly avial and wing-white


I.M. Jim Carroll