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, and from my second attempt, here’s 1660.
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.
Packing up, I took leave
of my old axe
and bought a bit of salmon
for the sun.
I promise to give all
that I have to the brave.
I am not discontented
with my sleep.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 15 March 1659/60.
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.
Rain.
I got up early.
I was deputy to trouble;
I could not talk.
A place other
than the void tonight?
I go out without
any qualification.
Doubt will be
the end of me.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 13 March 1659/60.