Poem: “Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey”

By Hayden Carruth

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.

–

“Scrambled Eggs and  Whiskey” from Scrambled Eggs & Whiskey: Poems 1991-1995 (Copper Canyon Press). Copyright © 1996 by Hayden Carruth. Reprinted with permission from Copper Canyon Press.