Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
Starting January 1, 2013, this is a daily exercise in erasure poetry based on the 17th-century Diary of Samuel Pepys. Why this work? Its language is admirably concrete, with recurring words and turns of phrase shaped by the exigencies of Pepys’ original shorthand. In thought and content it stands at the beginning of the modern era: the first truly confessional piece of literature by a man equally fascinated by religion and science, and whose curiosity encompassed everything from music-making and theater to mathematics, accounting, politics, fashion, and carnal pleasures. And last but not least, the 1899 Wheatley edition is available online in a website that is really a model for how to present literature on the web. It was my desire to read it day by day that led to this project, which I view not as erasure but as discovery—a kind of deep (mis)reading. Pepys was a sexual predator and an architect of British colonialism who personally profited off the slave trade, so any less than an engaged, critical reading of the diary, in this day and age, would be irresponsible. From a secret diary, these are the secret poems hidden even from the author himself.
I began compiling the erasures into free ebooks in 2017. Here are 1664, 1665, 1666, 1667, 1668 and 1669.
Letters came by ox and dove, good as oysters.
After dinner I wrote a great many letters.
After that, I slept, God forgive me!
After that, I walked, talking.
After that I sat.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 25 March 1660.
A hard creed.
My lord could not get
a bed at a grave.
Day came. A can
of beer upon my ear
spoiled my work.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 24 March 1659/60.
Carried in a black box,
my sugar woman
brought me perspective,
and I saw
people as guns—
and I was the best
that any had.
I got out of my chest
the orders to stop
all dangerous persons
going or coming.
How I slept
and was not sick
I know not.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 23 March 1659/60.
I ate the key to keep
the morning private,
took the Pope’s head and his silver hatband
to do him a courtesy.
I pray God to receive my ham.
I lay all night with my marrow bone.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 22 March 1659/60.
High, I desire
the writ of the Lord,
answer a judge
with three pints of wine
and take by mistake for supper
a hand with strawberry on it.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 21 March 1659/60.
Things against my going:
the rain, a great deal of paper,
the wind in the marsh. Oy.
I chose the saddest color
for a melancholy mother
and had a fear I should see
my house full of swords.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 20 March 1659/60.
Infinity makes
my head full.
I have been king
of the sea where
we drank and drank
till water was
the wish of all.
My mind is still
in the drink.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 19 March 1659/60.
I rose early to barber
the moss of the wood,
took a house
in Drury Lane
and ate toasted cakes
which were very crisp.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 18 March 1659/60.
I bade adieu to a rose,
gave paper to a paper,
drank farewell and drank to one
that would have a place at sea—a seal
who had a great desire to go to sea—
and I went home and sat there
talking old, playing old
till it was time to go lay
in a fine urn.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 17 March 1659/60.
Troubled with abundance of sea,
land going to water,
I rent a raft and eat tongue,
a fat joy in the chapel Chance.
I study how this day dissolved
without fire, sad in mind.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 16 March 1659/60.