Disaster capitalist

Up, and to the Tower, to see Sir W. Coventry, and with him talking of business of the Navy, all alone, an hour, he taking physic. And so away to the Office, where all the morning, and then home to dinner, with my people, and so to the Office again, and there all the afternoon till night, when comes, by mistake, my cozen Turner, and her two daughters, which love such freaks, to eat some anchovies and ham of bacon with me, instead of noon, at dinner, when I expected them. But, however, I had done my business before they come, and so was in good humour enough to be with them, and so home to them to supper, and pretty merry, being pleased to see Betty Turner, which hath something mighty pretty. But that which put me in good humour, both at noon and night, is the fancy that I am this day made a Captain of one of the King’s ships, Mr. Wren having this day sent me, the Duke of York’s commission to be Captain of “The Jerzy,” in order to my being of a Court-martiall for examining the loss of “The Defyance,” and other things; which do give me occasion of much mirth, and may be of some use to me, at least I shall get a little money by it for the time I have it; it being designed that I must really be a Captain to be able to sit in this Court. They staid till about eight at night, and then away, and my wife to read to me, and then to bed in mighty good humour, but for my eyes.

night comes at noon
when I expected business

but I am made captain
of the ship of loss

so at least I shall get
a little money by it

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 13 March 1669.

Some assembly required

Up, and abroad, with my own coach, to Auditor Beale’s house, and thence with W. Hewer to his Office, and there with great content spent all the morning looking over the Navy accounts of several years, and the several patents of the Treasurers, which was more than I did hope to have found there. About noon I ended there, to my great content, and giving the clerks there 20s. for their trouble, and having sent for W. Howe to me to discourse with him about the Patent Office records, wherein I remembered his brother to be concerned, I took him in my coach with W. Hewer and myself towards Westminster; and there he carried me to Nott’s, the famous bookbinder, that bound for my Lord Chancellor’s library; and here I did take occasion for curiosity to bespeak a book to be bound, only that I might have one of his binding. Thence back to Graye’s Inne: and, at the next door, at a cook’s-shop of Howe’s acquaintance, we bespoke dinner, it being now two o’clock; and in the meantime he carried us into Graye’s Inne, to his chamber, where I never was before; and it is very pretty, and little, and neat, as he was always. And so, after a little stay, and looking over a book or two there, we carried a piece of my Lord Coke with us, and to our dinner, where, after dinner, he read at my desire a chapter in my Lord Coke about perjury, wherein I did learn a good deal touching oaths, and so away to the Patent Office; in Chancery Lane, where his brother Jacke, being newly broke by running in debt, and growing an idle rogue, he is forced to hide himself; and W. Howe do look after the Office, and here I did set a clerk to look out some things for me in their books, while W. Hewer and I to the Crowne Offices where we met with several good things that I most wanted, and did take short notes of the dockets, and so back to the Patent Office, and did the like there, and by candle-light ended. And so home, where, thinking to meet my wife with content, after my pains all this day, I find her in her closet, alone, in the dark, in a hot fit of railing against me, upon some news she has this day heard of Deb.’s living very fine, and with black spots, and speaking ill words of her mistress, which with good reason might vex her; and the baggage is to blame, but, God knows, I know nothing of her, nor what she do, nor what becomes of her, though God knows that my devil that is within me do wish that I could. Yet God I hope will prevent me therein, for I dare not trust myself with it if I should know it; but, what with my high words, and slighting it, and then serious, I did at last bring her to very good and kind terms, poor heart! and I was heartily glad of it, for I do see there is no man can be happier than myself, if I will, with her. But in her fit she did tell me what vexed me all the night, that this had put her upon putting off her handsome maid and hiring another that was full of the small pox, which did mightily vex me, though I said nothing, and do still. So down to supper, and she to read to me, and then with all possible kindness to bed.

I remember myself
in the library
a book to be bound

only I might do
a little coke
my desire growing into ice

like light on a dark day
I know what devil
is within me

for my heart vexed me all night
putting off some small
possible kindness

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 12 March 1669.

What to Do when You Choke on a Fishbone

A child, they said:  a child 
             the only one who could dislodge the errant 
fishbone now choking your throat, by stealing 
             another bone from the plate to plant
unseen in your hair— As though the dark
             strands were a field or an ocean
limpid with promise, until the sharp,
             careless insinuation of a barb. Magic
or metaphor, metonymy or simple
             diversion, it wound the world more
tightly around you, as though invisible
              threads bound the body
you thought was free to choose between
              accident or fate to a universe
ticking with ancient mines.

Isolate

Up, and to Sir W. Coventry, to the Tower, where I walked and talked with him an hour alone, from one good thing to another: who tells me that he hears that the Commission is gone down to the King, with a blank to fill, for his place in the Treasury: and he believes it will be filled with one of our Treasurers of the Navy, but which he knows not, but he believes it will be Osborne. We walked down to the Stone Walk, which is called, it seems, my Lord of Northumberland’s walk, being paved by some one of that title, that was prisoner there: and at the end of it, there is a piece of iron upon the wall, with, his armes upon it, and holes to put in a peg, for every turn that they make upon that walk. So away to the Office, where busy all the morning, and so to dinner, and so very busy all the afternoon, at my Office, late; and then home tired, to supper, with content with my wife, and so to bed, she pleasing me, though I dare not own it, that she hath hired a chambermaid; but she, after many commendations, told me that she had one great fault, and that was, that she was very handsome, at which I made nothing, but let her go on; but many times to-night she took occasion to discourse of her handsomeness, and the danger she was in by taking her, and that she did doubt yet whether it would be fit for her, to take her. But I did assure her of my resolutions to have nothing to do with her maids, but in myself I was glad to have the content to have a handsome one to look on.

I walk and talk alone
from one thing to another
a blank to be filled

a stone prisoner
with arms and holes for every
tired supper

and hands that have
nothing to do
with hands

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 11 March 1669.

In exile

Up, and by hackney-coach to Auditor Beale’s Office, in Holborne, to look for records of the Navy, but he was out of the way, and so forced to go next to White Hall, to the Privy Seal; and, after staying a little there, then to Westminster, where, at the Exchequer, I met with Mr. Newport and Major Halsey; and, after doing a little business with Mr. Burges, we by water to White Hall, where I made a little stop: and so with them by coach to Temple Bar, where, at the Sugar Loaf we dined, and W. Hewer with me; and there comes a companion of theirs, Colonel Vernon, I think they called him; a merry good fellow, and one that was very plain in cursing the Duke of Buckingham, and discoursing of his designs to ruin us, and that ruin must follow his counsels, and that we are an undone people. To which the others concurred, but not so plain, but all vexed at Sir W. Coventry’s being laid aside: but Vernon, he is concerned, I perceive, for my Lord Ormond’s being laid aside; but their company, being all old cavaliers, were very pleasant to hear how they swear and talk. But Halsey, to my content, tells me that my Lord Duke of Albemarle says that W. Coventry being gone, nothing will be well done at the Treasury, and I believe it; but they do all talk as that Duncombe, upon some pretence or other, must follow him. Thence to Auditor Beale’s, his house and office, but not to be found, and therefore to the Privy Seale at White Hall, where, with W. Hewer and Mr. Gibson, who met me at the Temple, I spent the afternoon till evening looking over the books there, and did find several things to my purpose, though few of those I designed to find, the books being kept there in no method at all. Having done there, we by water home, and there find my cozen Turner and her two daughters come to see us; and there, after talking a little, I had my coach ready, and my wife and I, they going home, we out to White Chapel to take a little ayre, though yet the dirtiness of the road do prevent most of the pleasure, which should have been from this tour. So home, and my wife to read to me till supper, and to bed.

an out-of-the-way sea
where the port is a ruin

and we are all old
swear at one another
must not be found

and therefore the sea
where we see the dirtiness
of the road

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 10 March 1669.

Handyman

Up, and to the Tower; and there find Sir W. Coventry alone, writing down his journal, which, he tells me, he now keeps of the material things; upon which I told him, and he is the only man I ever told it to, I think, that I kept it most strictly these eight or ten years; and I am sorry almost that I told it him, it not being necessary, nor may be convenient to have it known. Here he showed me the petition he had sent to the King by my Lord Keeper, which was not to desire any admittance to employment, but submitting himself therein humbly to his Majesty; but prayed the removal of his displeasure, and that he might be set free. He tells me that my Lord Keeper did acquaint the King with the substance of it, not shewing him the petition; who answered, that he was disposing of his employments, and when that was done, he might be led to discharge him: and this is what he expects, and what he seems to desire. But by this discourse he was pleased to take occasion to shew me and read to me his account, which he hath kept by him under his own hand, of all his discourse, and the King’s answers to him, upon the great business of my Lord Clarendon, and how he had first moved the Duke of York with it twice, at good distance, one after another, but without success; shewing me thereby the simplicity and reasons of his so doing, and the manner of it; and the King’s accepting it, telling him that he was not satisfied in his management, and did discover some dissatisfaction against him for his opposing the laying aside of my Lord Treasurer, at Oxford, which was a secret the King had not discovered. And really I was mighty proud to be privy to this great transaction, it giving me great conviction of the noble nature and ends of Sir W. Coventry in it, and considerations in general of the consequences of great men’s actions, and the uncertainty of their estates, and other very serious considerations. From this to other discourse, and so to the Office, where we sat all the morning, and after dinner by coach to my cozen Turner’s, thinking to have taken the young ladies to a play; but The. was let blood to-day; and so my wife and I towards the King’s playhouse, and by the way found Betty [Turner], and Bab., and Betty Pepys staying for us; and so took them all to see “Claricilla,” which do not please me almost at all, though there are some good things in it. And so to my cozen Turner’s again, and there find my Lady Mordaunt, and her sister Johnson; and by and by comes in a gentleman, Mr. Overbury, a pleasant man, who plays most excellently on the flagelette, a little one, that sounded as low as one of mine, and mighty pretty. Hence by and by away, and with my wife, and Bab. and Betty Pepys, and W. Hewer, whom I carried all this day with me, to my cozen Stradwick’s, where I have not been ever since my brother Tom died, there being some difference between my father and them, upon the account of my cozen Scott; and I was glad of this opportunity of seeing them, they being good and substantial people, and kind, and here met my cozen Roger and his wife, and my cozen Turner, and here, which I never did before, I drank a glass, of a pint, I believe, at one draught, of the juice of oranges, of whose peel they make comfits; and here they drink the juice as wine, with sugar, and it is very fine drink; but, it being new, I was doubtful whether it might not do me hurt. Having staid a while, my wife and I back, with my cozen Turner, etc., to her house, and there we took our leaves of my cozen Pepys, who goes with his wife and two daughters for Impington tomorrow. They are very good people, and people I love, and am obliged to, and shall have great pleasure in their friendship, and particularly in hers, she being an understanding and good woman. So away home, and there after signing my letters, my eyes being bad, to supper and to bed.

material things show me
my own hand

the simplicity of it
accepting or laying aside

in a sequence of actions
certain as blood

and o to bury the day
in a glass of wine

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 9 March 1669.

Novena for the Pandemic

Our Lady of the pleated blue masks with two
loops thinner than hair ties. Our Lady of the wire-
threaded middle edge of K95s recommended 

for travel— Our Lady of the long-handled 
cotton swab, the rapid test and antibody 
test. Our Lady of online grocery 

shoppers and food delivery drivers who set 
your poke bowl and boba on the wobbly front 
step— In the world, some governments 

lift restrictions and cruise ships are impatient 
for summer. Our Lady of panic and illusions, chronic 
tiredness, brain fog, insomnia, and cardiac 

infarctions. Our Lady of lumpy 
chair cushions, portable ring lights, 
and unstable internet connections— 

We are as fish caught in a cloudy 
aquarium waiting for algae scrapers, 
water siphons, lime and bleach cleaners— 

Our Lady of the virtual lament, electronic 
embrace, mediated job interview, meeting, 
or funeral— In some part of the world 

pink blossoms have opened to spring 
and in another, a pink wave of protesters 
fills actual streets. Our Lady of ICUs

and statistics. Our Lady of terrible risks.
Our Lady of wars and climate injustice
in the throb of an ongoing epidemic. 

Seer

Up, and with W. Hewer by hackney coach to White Hall, where the King and the Duke of York is gone by three in the morning, and had the misfortune to be overset with the Duke of York, the Duke of Monmouth, and the Prince, at the King’s Gate in Holborne; and the King all dirty, but no hurt. How it come to pass I know not, but only it was dark, and the torches did not, they say, light the coach as they should do. I thought this morning to have seen my Lord Sandwich before he went out of town, but I come half an hour too late; which troubles me, I having not seen him since my Lady Palls died. So W. Hewer and I to the Harp-and-Ball, to drink my morning draught, having come out in haste; and there met with King, the Parliament-man, with whom I had some impertinent talk. And so to the Privy Seal Office, to examine what records I could find there, for my help in the great business I am put upon, of defending the present constitution of the Navy; but there could not have liberty without order from him that is in present waiting, Mr. Bickerstaffe, who is out of town. This I did after I had walked to the New Exchange and there met Mr. Moore, who went with me thither, and I find him the same discontented poor man as ever. He tells me that Mr. Shepley is upon being turned away from my Lord’s family, and another sent down, which I am sorry for; but his age and good fellowship have almost made him fit for nothing. Thence, at Unthanke’s my wife met me, and with our coach to my cozen Turner’s and there dined, and after dinner with my wife alone to the King’s playhouse, and there saw “The Mocke Astrologer,” which I have often seen, and but an ordinary play; and so to my cozen Turner’s again, where we met Roger Pepys, his wife, and two daughters, and there staid and talked a little, and then home, and there my wife to read to me, my eyes being sensibly hurt by the too great lights of the playhouse. So to supper and to bed.

a fortune born in dirt
dark as the sea

I examine what I find in it
waiting  alone

an astrologer hurt
by the great lights

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 8 March 1669.

Framing

I was young, playing at being sure
of my life. The man whose name

I used to wear must have loved
the idea of ownership,  of what 

we thought we were building more 
than the thing itself— Not beams

or planks of lumber, honey in
the knotted heart of beautiful pine

with blind whorls for eyes. Not
bricks or river stones nor sea-

horse-shaped pulls, and how smoothly
they'd slide drawers open. How easy

it seemed for him to charm nails, 
pavers, tile, and stain off clerks

at hardware stores, on credit. 
I never knew until pushed 

to face the debt collectors, while
moss began to unfinish floors.

I began to understand he'd fall
and keep falling the depth of glass

after glass into oblivion. Before they
lay the first stone, the carpenters bled

a chicken, cast coins and grains of rice upon
the foundation. But every wall and climbing vine 

saw  what didn't fuse, what shook loose:
the life I took back and that wouldn't settle.
 


endless reruns

a vision of glass 
noodle strings with carrots
hair bathed in soy

a tightly rolled rice
paper wrapper stuffed 
cheeks of shrimp and pork

the nanny who tended 
your son's fevers that
foreign summer 

the surgeon dark and only 
five foot tall who took out
the burst appendix

the echo of always
cleaning doing laundry 
singing smiling teeming

some believe the afterlife 
a place of punishment
or reward

some believe we'll be reborn
as many times as we couldn't
perfect our past lives 

ruthless skin
unbroken teeth voice
for a gilded screen