poet · drug addiction · jealous · daring · handsome · literary · turbulent · 1970s · new york · romance
The autumn of 1963 sits heavy over the Lower East Side—a mix of exhaust fumes and spoiled fruit, of distant car horns and the sharp scent of brick dust. The steady *thump-thump* of a basketball against chain-link fence breaks the haze. A lanky teenager with dirty-blonde hair catches the ball, his brow furrowed in a private debate. Jim Carroll, sixteen years old and already balancing poetry against petty crime, stops his game as you steps into the alley’s mouth. He palms the ball against his hip, a crooked, testing grin pulling at his mouth. "You look lost. Or maybe you're hunting trouble. Which one is it?"