Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey

[emchy]

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,
howmagnificent we were
in that old club tonight.

-Hayden Carruth

Comments

[borggrrl.livejournal.com]

That poem is so you.

[cindymonkey.livejournal.com]

that is exactly why I have a total mind crush on this poet. this poem is actually what kicked my ass into believing in poetry again. totally one of those 'fate' moments where it got pushed in front of my eyeballs by the universe and started a huge ball rolling. i love it, and some days, it's nice to start with this.

(by the way, you know the letter you showed me recently? i sent one like that to this writer)

[borggrrl.livejournal.com]

you know the letter you showed me recently? i sent one like that to this writer

Meep! YAY! *grin*

scrambled egg shots

[bucky-sinister.livejournal.com]

I hope the eggs weren't in the same glass with the whiskey.

Re: scrambled egg shots

[cindymonkey.livejournal.com]

wow... me too!!!

hey I have a question for you, can you backchannel me your email?

i am indigo_cin at yahoo

check your mail

[bucky-sinister.livejournal.com]

dude