Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
O infinity of papers, give a piece of me
to the surgeon, to soldiers, to the town
where I seem a dull heavy man.
I had a mind to some cabbage,
I sent for some and had it.
A strange thing how I am
already in the book
of rain and night.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 14 March 1659/60.
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).
I love
‘a strange thing how I am
already in the book
of rain and night’.
Oh, thanks! For some reason, I associate the taste of boiled cabbage with rain.
exactly the lines I was going to applaud