Hayden CarruthOn Being Marginalized
That's what the lady said. Said it right Out, loud and clear. Said, "You've been mar- Ginalized." Well, thanks. "It's too bad," She said. Oh, you bet your freakin' elbow It's too bad. And what's that I hear behind My head? Palm fronds creaking? Is this Friday's footprint? A sad castaway is what I am, looking everywhere for a bottle, not The one with a message, but the one with a Nice drink of cyanide. Here's to you, lady. So long. May you choke on that martini.
Fanfare for the Common Man, No. 2
Hommage a Aaron Copland
And here he lies, here at our feet, as usual. See his black brows still glowering. See His maggots, his flies. See his tears still Limpid in his paralyzed eyes. Oh, see, oh, See how his blood issues slowly on the ground. And now look up into the strange gray face Bending to you on the screen, gray and peculiarly Fractured, crackled and crazed, unidentifiable As the progeny of any family of man-- Ah, look at the knowledge there of having Seen this man and then signed the document Which contrived this death that reverberates Now in every day and hour across the world. Let the muted trumpet sound, and let it Die in the smoky air...
Hayden Carruth has published twenty-nine books, the most recent of which is Doctor Jazz: Poems 1996-2000 (Copper Canyon Press, 2001). He has been editor of Poetry, poetry editor of Harper's, and, for 20 years, an advisory editor of The Hudson Review.
