Hayden Carruth, 1921-2008

Hayden Carruth passed away on Monday at the age of 87. I attended an 80th birthday tribute to him in 2001. It's documented here on BillyBlog. I had a funny interaction with him via the mail, due to my inability to get him to sign a poster at that reading. See the awesome Poetry in Motion poster and the story behind it here.

The New York Times obituary can be read here.

And a poem to remember him by:

SCRAMBLED EGGS AND WHISKEY

Scrambled eggs and whiskey
in the false-dawn light. Chicago,
a sweet town, bleak, God knows,
but sweet. Sometimes. And
weren't we fine tonight?
When Hank set up that limping
treble roll behind me
my horn just growled and I
thought my heart would burst.
And Brad M. pressing with the
soft stick and Joe-Anne
singing low. Here we are now
in the White Tower, leaning
on one another, too tired
to go home. But don't say a word,
don't tell a soul, they wouldn't
understand, they couldn't, never
in a million years, how fine,
how magnificent we were
in that old club tonight.