A rose told my thoughts
and I took to drink,
dined with my troubles—
the money horse,
the rose that brought
a slow hell home.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 23 February 1659/60.
Dave Bonta (bio) often suffers from imposter syndrome, but not in a bad way — more like some kind of flower-breathing dragon, pot-bellied and igneous. Be that as it may, all of his writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International 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).
This one’s amazing, with or without constraints. Love the last couplet. But the “money horse” seems integral — a powerful suggestion, but the rest of the poem stands up to it.
Thanks — I’m glad you thought so. I really sweated over this one. It was Rachel’s suggestion that I make “rose” into a noun and incorporate that. Plus, we were reading about Brynhild’s revenge and death in the Poetic Edda this evening, and I think that’s partially behind the horse and slow hell.
yeah I really like this one too – reminds me of Tom Waits or someone
I’ll take that! I love Tom Waits.