My copy of the January/February issue of American Poetry Review arrived in my mailbox yesterday and with it, eight new poems by Hayden Carruth to my delight. The first poem "In Memoriam" grapples with a friend's death in 2005 and so thoroughly captures the seizures of fear and loss people feel when they lose someone so necessary to how they conceive of the world that these same lines might have applied to anyone in the poetry community who loved Hayden Carruth's writing and was surprised to hear of his passing last year:
He died. I saw his obit in the Times, and I felt
A sort of deflating gasp in my lungs, and I knew
As I had not before how lonely this life has
Become and is becoming. Tobias is gone,
And the hurricanes rage. Please, somebody. Please.
Accompanying the poems in the issue is an essay about Carruth's poetry entitled "One of Us: The Poetry of Hayden Carruth" by Ted Solotaroff which is also well worth the price of the magazine. I have been a huge fan of Hayden Carruth for the last half dozen years and have gathered a reasonable miscellany of his broadsides and poetry collections in that time. Below is a picture of his attractively done volume The Oldest Killed Lake In North America published in 1985 by Salt-Works.
This first edition is limited to 400 copies handset in Baskerville & Garamond types, treadle-printed on classic laid text, hand-sewn in classic wrappers with Grandee endsheets. Titles of poems appear in blue.