Testament

Up and to my office, where all the morning, and dined at home, Mr. Deane, of Woolwich, with me, and he and I all the afternoon down by water, and in a timber yard, measuring of timber, which I now understand thoroughly, and shall be able in a little time to do the King great service.
Home in the evening, and after Will’s reading a little in the Latin Testament, to bed.

in wool
the down

in timber
time

in a will
a testament


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 20 June 1663.

Divination

You soothed my fears best with words—
strung them into parables, taught me
to look inside stacked forms

for clues, broke them down into
individual parts so I could trace
their threads back to some

ground of origin. As it is,
I’ve learned of depths
beyond which none of us

can go unless the going
is complete. Like happiness,
I suppose; or like that kind

of surrender. Deepest shadow
beyond blue shadows lapping
at the sill, deeper pulse

goading the compass needle.
What is fortune? When it’s time,
you said, you’ll know.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Waterfront

Lay till 6 o’clock, and then up and to my office, where all the morning, and at noon to the Exchange, and coming home met Mr. Creed, and took him back, and he dined with me, and by and by came Mr. Moore, whom I supplied with 30l., and then abroad with them by water to Lambeth, expecting to have seen the Archbishop lie in state; but it seems he is not laid out yet. And so over to White Hall, and at the Privy Seal Office examined the books, and found the grant of increase of salary to the principall officers in the year 1639, 300l. among the Controller, Surveyor, and Clerk of the Shippes. Thence to Wilkinson’s after a good walk in the Park, where we met on horseback Captain Ferrers; who tells us that the King of France is well again, and that he saw him train his Guards, all brave men, at Paris; and that when he goes to his mistress, Madame la Valiere, a pretty little woman, now with child by him, he goes with his guards with him publiquely, and his trumpets and kettle-drums with him, who stay before the house while he is with her; and yet he says that, for all this, the Queen do not know of it, for that nobody dares to tell her; but that I dare not believe. Thence I to Wilkinson’s, where we had bespoke a dish of pease, where we eat them very merrily, and there being with us the little gentleman, a friend of Captain Ferrers, that was with my wife and I at a play a little while ago, we went thence to the Rhenish wine-house, where we called for a red Rhenish wine called Bleahard, a pretty wine, and not mixed, as they say.
Here Mr. Moore showed us the French manner, when a health is drunk, to bow to him that drunk to you, and then apply yourself to him, whose lady’s health is drunk, and then to the person that you drink to, which I never knew before; but it seems it is now the fashion.
Thence by water home and to bed, having played out of my chamber window on my pipe before I went to bed, and making Will read a part of a Latin chapter, in which I perceive in a little while he will be pretty ready, if he spends but a little pains in it.

morning laid out
over all the ships

a child drums merrily
on the window


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 19 June 1663.

Phases

New moon

Every thumbnail reminds me
to tuck coins into my pockets.
The window rattles when
the meter maid rides by.

*

Waxing gibbous

On Tuesday, mail arrives
from the colony— each page
soaked with the smell
of fog and bitter melon.

*

Full moon

After we drank the tea down to the dregs,
the gypsy read our fortunes. I want to know,
Where did she learn to tell the shape
of death from that of pillows?

*

Waning crescent

The meadow was ablaze
with firefly light. I knelt
in the garden, practicing
for certain grief.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Face to face.

Recluse

Up by four o’clock and to my office, where all the morning writing out in my Navy collections the ordinary estimate of the Navy, and did it neatly. Then dined at home alone, my mind pleased with business, but sad for the absence of my wife. After dinner half an hour at my viallin, and then all the afternoon sitting at the office late, and so home and to bed. This morning Mr. Cutler came and sat in my closet half an hour with me, his discourse very excellent, being a wise man, and I do perceive by him as well as many others that my diligence is taken notice of in the world, for which I bless God and hope to continue doing so.
Before I went into my house this night I called at Sir W. Batten’s, where finding some great ladies at table at supper with him and his lady, I retreated and went home, though they called to me again and again, and afterwards sent for me. So I went, and who should it be but Sir Fr. Clerke and his lady and another proper lady at supper there, and great cheer, where I staid till 11 o’clock at night, and so home and to bed.

out of my mind
I sat in my closet

no world called to me
but a clock


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 18 June 1663.

Improbable Blessings

After the Eucharist, the clean
up, every plastic cup consigned
to the trash, pottery chalice
and plate rinsed in the sink.

I take the bread to the butterfly
garden. I tear scraps
of unleavened rounds into crumbs
which I scatter across the ground.

The children delight in pouring
the undrunk but consecrated
wine into the flowers, where it drips
down to the soil below.

I imagine caterpillars drunk
on God’s love made visible
in sacrament, birds pecking
in the dirt, surprised
to find a blessing,
bushes bursting with blooms
in improbable colors.


Inspired by Dave Bonta’s “Inner city” and Luisa A. Igloria’s “What can you do with day old bread?

The only mammals that can’t jump

Do you ever hunger for a taste you can’t seem to find
in anything you eat, but don’t know what exactly?

Do you walk more slowly in the rain, waiting
for some other rhythm with which to fall in step?

You used to keep notebooks of collected facts
which gathered and curled into themselves

in interesting shapes. You’d take them out
every now and then, thumbnails to your own

kind of hairball museum— Hot water is heavier
than cold. A shrimp’s heart resides in its head.

Beetles taste like apples, wasps like pine nuts,
worms like fried bacon. Despite or because of

the memes and .gifs inspired by Nicolas Deveaux’s
short film of an elephant on a trampoline,

the elephant is the only mammal that can’t
jump. And Leonardo da Vinci invented scissors,

that same implement which an American in Taiwan
dismantled into two blades yesterday, and used

to stab himself in a courtroom after the judge
sentenced him to four years in jail for illegal

possession of drugs. All the sad news
this week, all the much too young people

whose names were listed and whose brief
lives flickered like the jeweled flames

music makes in laying down a beat. And all
the stupid accidents on the road today

causing pileups. Still, you are convinced
that everyone and everything just wants

to be loved and understood, accounted for.
Even the single-file line of giraffes

walking gravely through the narrow tiled lane
leading to the high dive platform above the pool

—each one wants to touch noses with the upside-
down spotter before landing clean in the water.

Pimp

Up before 4 o’clock, which is the hour I intend now to rise at, and to my office a while, and with great pleasure I fell to my business again. Anon went with money to my tar merchant to pay for the tar, which he refuses to sell me; but now the master is come home, and so he speaks very civilly, and I believe we shall have it with peace. I brought back my money to my office, and thence to White Hall, and in the garden spoke to my Lord Sandwich, who is in his gold-buttoned suit, as the mode is, and looks nobly. Captain Ferrers, I see, is come home from France. I only spoke one word to him, my Lord being there. He tells me the young gentlemen are well there; so my Lord went to my Lord Albemarle’s to dinner, and I by water home and dined alone, and at the office (after half an hour’s viallin practice after dinner) till late at night, and so home and to bed.
This day I sent my cozen Edward Pepys his Lady, at my cozen Turner’s, a piece of venison given me yesterday, and Madam Turner I sent for a dozen bottles of her’s, to fill with wine for her.
This day I met with Pierce the surgeon, who tells me that the King has made peace between Mr. Edward Montagu and his father Lord Montagu, and that all is well again; at which; for the family’s sake, I am very glad, but do not think it will hold long.

the pleasure merchant
in his gold-buttoned suit

is only gentle alone late at night
a bottle to fill with wine


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 17 June 1663.

Vicarious

Up, but not so early as I intend now, and to my office, where doing business all the morning. At noon by desire I dined with Sir W. Batten, who tells me that the House have voted the supply, intended for the King, shall be by subsidy. After dinner with Sir J. Minnes to see some pictures at Brewer’s, said to be of good hands, but I do not like them. So I to the office and thence to Stacy’s, his Tar merchant, whose servant with whom I agreed yesterday for some tar do by combination with Bowyer and Hill fall from our agreement, which vexes us all at the office, even Sir W. Batten, who was so earnest for it. So to the office, where we sat all the afternoon till night, and then to Sir W. Pen, who continues ill, and so to bed about 10 o’clock.

I tend to my desire
with pictures of hands

like a tar merchant
greedy for the night


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 16 June 1663.