How can it be? exclaims the mother seeing her child
off on yet another first day of school. What will you do,
asked my own mother, if something terrible were to happen
to me? I didn't know how to imagine such a scenario—
couldn't. Can you? She owned a closet full of dresses
she sewed herself— such soft, beautiful fabrics.
Such lady collars, perfect darts, perfect seams.
But I would never have fit into any of them.
What a waist! What a waste. They've all gone up
in smoke. I buy most of my clothes now. Ready
made is what they used to call it. As if you could
step into an outfit, close the door, turn on all
the lights. I thrift some, but infrequently. Who knows
the romance of the single hook and eye or the hand-
smocked bodice anymore? I would run to the neighbors,
I answered. I'd shout for help. I'd run my fingers
feverishly down the phone book as if it were
a dictionary, looking for the word doctor or fire.
Flagged
Up early, and to my office, where people come to me about business, and by and by we met on purpose to enquire into the business of the flag-makers, where I am the person that do chiefly manage the business against them on the King’s part; and I do find it the greatest cheat that I have yet found; they having eightpence per yard allowed them by pretence of a contract, where no such thing appears; and it is threepence more than was formerly paid, and than I now offer the Board to have them done. We did not fully end it, but refer it to another time.
At noon Commr. Pett and I by water to Greenwich, and on board the pleasure-boats to see what they wanted, they being ordered to sea, and very pretty things I still find them, and so on shore and at the Shipp had a bit of meat and dined, there waiting upon us a barber of Mr. Pett’s acquaintance that plays very well upon the viollin. Thence to Lambeth; and there saw the little pleasure-boat in building by the King, my Lord Brunkard, and the virtuosoes of the town, according to new lines, which Mr. Pett cries up mightily, but how it will prove we shall soon see.
So by water home, and busy at my study late, drawing a letter to the yards of reprehension and direction for the board to sign, in which I took great pains. So home and to bed.
flag-makers manage
the King’s greatest cheat
nothing appears now
but a green sea
it plays upon
the little pleasure-boat
a virtuoso wing
a yard of pain
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 13 August 1662.
Evening hike
Up early at my office, and I find all people beginning to come to me. Among others Mr. Deane, the Assistant of Woolwich, who I find will discover to me the whole abuse that his Majesty suffers in the measuring of timber, of which I shall be glad. He promises me also a modell of a ship, which will please me exceedingly, for I do want one of my own. By and by we sat, and among other things Sir W. Batten and I had a difference about his clerk’s making a warrant for a Maister, which I would not suffer, but got another signed, which he desires may be referred to a full board, and I am willing to it. But though I did get another signed of my own clerk’s, yet I will give it to his clerk, because I would not be judged unkind, and though I will stand upon my privilege. At noon home and to dinner alone, and so to the office again where busy all the afternoon till 10 o’clock at night, and so to supper and to bed, my mind being a little disquieted about Sir W. Batten’s dispute to-day, though this afternoon I did speak with his man Norman at last, and told him the reason of my claim.
I discover in the timber
a ship
full of my own night
quiet and old
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 12 August 1662.
The Future Comes to Us in Dreams
Behold, sunrise on the cobblestones,
a path slippered with moss leading
to the river. Behold, meaning to regard
but also keep fast or close. Millions
of views, whether it's of the moon
at its zenith or the tides cresting
and swallowing barns and silos, garden
sheds, bleachers in a stadium
one state away. Is that your father's
threadbare bathroom robe fluttering
on a half-submerged dogwood tree, its topmost
branches still laden with custard berries?
Are those his yellowed dentures conversing
with dented weather vanes? A blue and pink
axolotl swims into view on the wall of a thrift
store. Henceforth wherever you walk,
the ground at night is softened with stars.
Miners’ Wives Carrying Sacks of Coal
(after Van Gogh, 1881-82)
I didn't know that Van Gogh spent
some years as an independent preacher
in the coal-mining town of Borinage.
When his brother visited, he found
Vincent had given most of his clothes
and money to the poor, but despaired
of being able to save anyone. It's after
this period that he determined to devote
himself to his art, saying in a letter
how happy he would be if some day he
could draw the ordinary laborers he saw
there, so that these unknown types would be
brought before the eyes of the people— take
his painting of miners' wives in winter,
bearing sacks of coal on their backs. Bent
over from the weight and clothed from head
to toe in the same color of their burden,
they shuffle homeward at the gloomy end of day.
The earth is cold and hard because of the time
of year. And yet their husbands, brothers, sons
toil beneath the crust, gathering for their heat
and sustenance. Here, where I live near the river,
trains rumble past multiple times a day, carrying
coal across Virginia to Lambert's Point, from there
to be shipped to different parts of the world. In nearby
neighborhoods, like the women of Borinage, housewives
wipe coal dust off window sills and furniture, the rims
of cups and bowls. Fingers and lungs pick up dark
smudges. In the distance, freezing rain; a blue-grey haze,
cross-hatched tracks. Delirium of industry for profit.
Fortified
All the morning at the office. Dined at home all alone, and so to my office again, whither Dean Fuller came to see me, and having business about a ship to carry his goods to Dublin, whither he is shortly to return, I went with him to the Hermitage, and the ship happening to be Captn. Holland’s I did give orders for them to be well looked after, and thence with him to the Custom House about getting a pass for them, and so to the Dolphin tavern, where I spent 6d. on him, but drank but one glass of wine, and so parted. He tells me that his niece, that sings so well, whom I have long longed to see, is married to one Mr. Boys, a wholesale man at the Three Crowns in Cheapside.
I to the office again, whither Cooper came and read his last lecture to me upon my modell, and so bid me good bye, he being to go to-morrow to Chatham to take charge of the ship I have got him. So to my business till 9 at night, and so to supper and to bed, my mind a little at ease because my house is now quite tiled.
alone I turn hermit
happen in to the tavern
where one glass of wine
sings goodbye
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 11 August 1662.
Mutable Signs
Today we don't hear the epistle
of the river
Only the sound of pages
rippling in wind
A storm has formed off
a nearby coast
Who is making those pictures
now of hurricane paths
Coloring in the arrows
of its intentions
It has been a short and
fickle season
Near moldering fruit,
a swallowtail butterfly fans itself
Overnight, it seems the gods
have eaten more than their fill
Grave matter
(Lord’s day). Being to dine at my brother’s, I walked to St. Dunstan’s, the church being now finished; and here I heard Dr. Bates, who made a most eloquent sermon; and I am sorry I have hitherto had so low an opinion of the man, for I have not heard a neater sermon a great while, and more to my content. So to Tom’s, where Dr. Fairebrother, newly come from Cambridge, met me, and Dr. Thomas Pepys. I framed myself as pleasant as I could, but my mind was another way. Hither came my uncle Fenner, hearing that I was here, and spoke to me about Pegg Kite’s business of her portion, which her husband demands, but I will have nothing to do with it. I believe he has no mind to part with the money out of his hands, but let him do what he will with it. He told me the new service-book (which is now lately come forth) was laid upon their deske at St. Sepulchre’s for Mr. Gouge to read; but he laid it aside, and would not meddle with it: and I perceive the Presbyters do all prepare to give over all against Bartholomew-tide.
Mr. Herring, being lately turned out at St. Bride’s, did read the psalm to the people while they sung at Dr. Bates’s, which methought is a strange turn.
After dinner to St. Bride’s, and there heard one Carpenter, an old man, who, they say, hath been a Jesuit priest, and is come over to us; but he preaches very well. So home with Mrs. Turner, and there hear that Mr. Calamy hath taken his farewell this day of his people, and that others will do so the next Sunday. Mr. Turner, the draper, I hear, is knighted, made Alderman, and pricked for Sheriffe, with Sir Thomas Bluddel, for the next year, by the King, and so are called with great honour the King’s Sheriffes.
Thence walked home, meeting Mr. Moore by the way, and he home with me and walked till it was dark in the garden, and so good night, and I to my closet in my office to perfect my Journall and to read my solemn vows, and so to bed.
I am content to lie
with a sepulcher
for a bride
an old man who preaches
to the sun
in a dark garden
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 10 August 1662.
Musical Theatre
What is to become of this storm-
wracked world, this burning world?
The moon is supposed to loom large
tonight. Imagine a flourish of chords,
the sense of a swelling and building.
It's as if anyone's life, pushed to
the center of that stage, under flood-
lights, might still aspire to a long
and dazzling run. Instead, I feel
like the silence in the rafters before
and after every performance— the seats
folded back in place, scraps of playbills
swept away along with any ovations.
Life time
Up by four o’clock or a little after, and to my office, whither by and by comes Cooper, to whom I told my getting for him the Reserve, for which he was very thankful, and fell to work upon our modell, and did a good morning’s work upon the rigging, and am very sorry that I must lose him so soon. By and by comes Mr. Coventry, and he and I alone sat at the office all the morning upon business. And so to dinner to Trinity House, and thence by his coach towards White Hall; but there being a stop at the Savoy, we ‘light and took water, and my Lord Sandwich being out of town, we parted there, all the way having good discourse, and in short I find him the most ingenuous person I ever found in my life, and am happy in his acquaintance and my interest in him. Home by water, and did business at my office. Writing a letter to my brother John to dissuade him from being Moderator of his year, which I hear is proffered him, of which I am very glad. By and by comes Cooper, and he and I by candlelight at my modell, being willing to learn as much of him as is possible before he goes.
So home and to bed.
whom to serve
alone at the office
but my own ingenuous life
writing by candlelight
my ode to as much
as possible
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 9 August 1662.

