Month: March 2024

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Objectivity

river in November light between bare woods and mountain 
Objectivity is said to be free of bias, free of perceptions
tinged by emotion and dreams. The problem is we

have no way of determining what that state is like,
since the moment we (think)  we approach it, we can't

help putting it on—it's like a raincoat that supposedly keeps
its wearer neutral and dry; reasonable, with deep pocketfuls

of empirical evidence whose purpose is to establish the truth
as truth. Objectivity resides in a sterile chamber without 

distraction. But since it can only be confirmed independent 
of a mind, I 'm pretty sure there are wall-to-wall mirrors.  

How else could it affirm its objectivity than by checking itself out
many times a day? The rest of us live in our porous apartments, 

where we can hear the neighbors quarrel then have make-up 
sex; and they snore, or sing loud into a karaoke machine.
Posted on by Dave Bonta

Back to the land

Sam Pepys and me

(Sunday). At church, where a stranger preached like a fool.
From thence home and dined with my wife, she staying at home, being unwilling to dress herself, the house being all dirty.
To church again, and after sermon I walked to my father’s, and to Mrs. Turner’s, where I could not woo The. to give me a lesson upon the harpsicon and was angry at it.
So home and finding Will abroad at Sir W. Batten’s talking with the people there (Sir W. and my Lady being in the country), I took occasion to be angry with him, and so to prayers and to bed.

a strange ache
to dress in dirt

and give a lesson
on being

in the country
too angry to pray


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 31 March 1661.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Chimeras

river in November light between bare woods and mountain 
We got a hybrid car when the roof of our old 
car started leaking. At first we weren't sure how
we'd like the hybrid, but we save so much on gas
now. It quietly shifts from gas to electric propulsion,
until you speed up or drive up a steep incline. 
There are so many hybrids in the world, besides,
each one displaying the mixing of different parts. 
The mythical chimera was part lion, part goat, 
part dragon and snake, wandering the fields 
and snacking on cattle. A hero  climbed up 
on the winged horse Pegasus (formed 
from the blood of the Gorgon Medusa), 
and shot it down from up high. Then as now,
anything of mixed nature was feared, named
impure, though they were often born from all 
manner of mingling: gods with their siblings, 
gods as bulls or swans with mortal girls. 
Don't you wonder if some of that line
still remains in us? Microchimeric fetal cells 
burrow into mothers' blood, marrow, liver,
skin. Human brain cells have been turned
into neural chimeras in the brains of rats.
We are always already many, and not just one.
Posted on by Dave Bonta

Libertine

Sam Pepys and me

At the office we and Sir W. Rider to advise what sort of provisions to get ready for these ships going to the Indies. Then the Comptroller and I by water to Mr. Coventry, and there discoursed upon the same thing.
So to my coz. Tho. Pepys, and got him to promise me 1,000l. to lend my Lord upon his and my uncle Robert’s and my security. So to my Lord’s, and there got him to sign a bond to him, which I also signed too, and he did sign counter security to us both.
Then into London up and down and drank a pint of wine with Mr. Creed, and so home and sent a letter and the bonds to my uncle to sign for my Lord.
This day I spoke with Dr. Castle about making up the dividend for the last quarter, and agreed to meet about it on Monday.

what sort of visions
die in promise
or on a sign

wine is a castle
for the last day


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 30March 1661.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Lunch, with Oracle Gull

river in November light between bare woods and mountain 
                                 ~ for M.

My friend takes a pack of gold-edged
oracle cards out of her pocket and asks me
if I want a reading. Of course I say yes.
We are waiting for our orders of ramen 
at an Asian  fusion restaurant. Who doesn't
want to catch sight of even the future's slim
ankle or shoelaces up ahead, disappearing
around the corner?  She shuffles the cards 
while I think of my question. Then I pick 
one and turn it over. I get the Gull, and 
these bits of wisdom—swallow your fears
whole, don't get caught in nets of sadness;
instead hover over it all to see if there is
another way.  OK, Oracle Gull. Seeing 
no other resources, I'm going to take this 
to mean your approval of me applying for 
another credit card loan. I do see 
the importance of prioritizing roof repair 
over a lower credit score. After all, the future
is a never-ending construction project,
and all of us merely its fumbling architects
Posted on by Dave Bonta

According to plan

Sam Pepys and me

Up among my workmen with great pleasure.
Then to the office, where I found Sir W. Pen sent down yesterday to Chatham to get two great ships in readiness presently to go to the East Indies upon some design against the Dutch, we think, at Goa but it is a great secret yet.
Dined at home, came Mr. Shepley and Moore, and did business with both of them. After that to Sir W. Batten’s, where great store of company at dinner. Among others my schoolfellow, Mr. Christmas, where very merry, and hither came letters from above for the fitting of two other ships for the East Indies in all haste, and so we got orders presently for the Hampshire and Nonsuch. Then home and there put some papers in order, and not knowing what to do, the house being so dirty, I went to bed.

ships go to the Indies
on secret business

with that other Christ
from above

the ships go on paper
not knowing the dirt


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 29 March 1661.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Infinite Loop

river in November light between bare woods and mountain 
Day and night, the sopping rain.
Three to four inches, says the weather
reporter; flood watch across lower areas.

The mail is damp and spongy—bills
and bulletins, plus the annual notice 
of assessed value on our home

labeled "This is Not a Bill." I chop
celery and onions, shape meat
into a loaf cemented with beaten 

egg. I set the timer. It bakes in the oven 
while I clean the greasy kitchen tiles. 
A few days from now, with a sudden 

surge in temperature, the yard 
will fill with mushrooms, some 
on the stump of a tree cut down 

years ago. All this moisture feeding 
the spores that lurk in the soil and air,
saying there's still so much work to do, 

until life comes to an end. Then we'll 
lie back in the earth drained to the  bone,
oblivious to purpose, currency, and cost.
Posted on by Dave Bonta

Apart

Sam Pepys and me

Up early among my workmen, then Mr. Creed coming to see me I went along with him to Sir Robert Slingsby (he being newly maister of that title by being made a Baronett) to discourse about Mr. Creed’s accounts to be made up, and from thence by coach to my cozen Thomas Pepys, to borrow 1000l. for my Lord, which I am to expect an answer to tomorrow. So to my Lord’s, and there staid and dined, and after dinner did get my Lord to view Mr. Shepley’s accounts as I had examined them, and also to sign me a bond for my 500l.
Then with Mr. Shepley to the Theatre and saw “Rollo” ill acted. That done to drink a cup of ale and so by coach to London, and having set him down in Cheapside I went home, where I found a great deal of work done to-day, and also 70l. paid me by the Treasurer upon the bill of exchange that I have had hopes of so long, so that, my heart in great content; I went to bed.

among men I seem mad
a made-up account

to sign on my own
heap of hopes


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 28 March 1661.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Harrowing

an empty coal train
is rolling past a hobo camp

so many vacancies
like christ’s tomb

while the emergency room at the hospital
has no beds to spare

no windows of any kind
only an addict’s hallucinations

and a skinny old man
yelling help without the p

hell hell hell for hours
until the hospitalist snaps

out here it’s nearly easter
another winter’s worth of fossil fuels

have risen indeed
on wings of mercury

a gray fox ravaged by rabies
leaves her pelt beside the burrow

as the first hepaticas
raise their blue cups

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Reel

Sam Pepys and me

Up early to see my workmen at work. My brother Tom comes to me, and among other things I looked over my old clothes and did give him a suit of black stuff clothes and a hat and some shoes.
At the office all the morning, where Sir G. Carteret comes, and there I did get him to promise me some money upon a bill of exchange, whereby I shall secure myself of 60l. which otherwise I should not know how to get.
At noon I found my stairs quite broke down, that I could not get up but by a ladder; and my wife not being well she kept her chamber all this day.
To the Dolphin to a dinner of Mr. Harris’s, where Sir Williams both and my Lady Batten, and her two daughters, and other company, where a great deal of mirth, and there staid till 11 o’clock at night; and in our mirth I sang and sometimes fiddled (there being a noise of fiddlers there), and at last we fell to dancing, the first time that ever I did in my life, which I did wonder to see myself to do. At last we made Mingo, Sir W. Batten’s black, and Jack, Sir W. Pen’s, dance, and it was strange how the first did dance with a great deal of seeming skill.
Home, where I found my wife all day in her chamber. So to bed.

brother to other things
my old black shoes

get where I otherwise
should not know

down a ladder
into another night

and there in a noise
of fiddlers I wonder

to see myself dance
with seeming skill


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 27 March 1661.