Insomniac

About one in the morning, W. Howe called me up to give him a letter to carry to my Lord that came to me to-day, which I did and so to, sleep again. About three in the morning the people began to wash the deck, and the water came pouring into my mouth, which waked me, and I was fain to rise and get on my gown, and sleep leaning on my table.
This morning Mr. Montagu went away again.
After dinner come Mr. John Wright and Mr. Moore, with the sight of whom my heart was very glad. They brought an order for my Lord’s coming up to London, which my Lord resolved to do tomorrow.
All the afternoon getting my things in order to set forth to-morrow. At night walked up and down with Mr. Moore, who did give me an account of all things at London. Among others, how the Presbyterians would be angry if they durst, but they will not be able to do any thing.
Most of the Commanders on board and supped with my Lord.
Late at night came Mr. Edw. Pickering from London, but I could not see him this night.
I went with Mr. Moore to the Master’s cabin, and saw him there in order to going to bed.
After that to my own cabin to put things in order and so to bed.

One in the morning. How to sleep?
Ash came pouring into my mouth.
I sleep on my table after dinner
and at night walk up and down in bed.


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 7 June 1660.

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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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