Not as soon as he could have gone, but still too soon. Now he joins his brethren he saluted so long ago. And he still looked good doing what he did, even at 60. Punk was so much prettier with him. The Basketball Diaries was a pivotal journal of decadence and decay from a youth a la Burroughs' Naked Lunch. Honest and raw, poetic as Rimbaud. Poetry as performance was made by him and all because Patti Smith said get up here and do it, then Keith Richards got him a record contract.
Rest well, Jim Carroll.