Hanging jack

erasure of a page from Samuel Pepys' diary

[My lute an office
where I expect to walk.

I found a stone in mourning
for the temple.

Bread and butter were discoursing
of the great eater.

I remember a hanging jack
to roast birds—that heat.

I played a while on my lute
and could not kill anything.]


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 4 February 1659/60.

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Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave's writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the "share alike" provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).

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