I lie alone, mind on her face.
In the church chancel, the mouth of a whale,
bigger than bad weather.
I keep myself in the open,
wake to piss.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 20 May 1660.
In Partibus Infidelium
Up early, in pink light
I see rock and a broken land,
the house sunk where children were born—
one of our villages, but for the language.
The people eat fish
but play at physician, a clapper
to frighten the birds
away from the corn.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 19 May 1660.
Skeptic
I hear the wind speak:
nothing but epitaph,
brass angels crying.
The church, a poor man’s box
that binds any guest
to the dying light
like some great weight.
I go down to the water
with my echo:
to say is to know.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 18 May 1660.
Heaven
The king is naked and mad,
the queen wagers the whole world
on heaven—a strange country.
I hide in a wagon
with one horse.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 17 May 1660.
Stood Up
Wine while I wait,
scarlet clothes like feathers
in the portmanteau.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 16 May 1660.
Shore Leave
A day bright as silver,
the women in black like boats
swimming in the sea.
On shore, I walk like a captain:
I roll, not able to stand.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 15 May 1660.
In the Hague (tanka)
Two pretty ladies
kiss the two blades with them.
I drop my rapier.
We walk up and down the town.
In every door, the moon.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 14 May 1660.
Writer’s Confession
As tailors cut pieces of cloth into a flag,
I like to give a word exceeding grace,
open it to hurl, war, harp,
take it to the mouth as prayer and flesh.
I am old and very strange with letters.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 13 May 1660.
Sailor’s Advice
Boy in the bay, stay
and understand:
letters only attend
the coming of a sail.
Midway, we could see
places very pleasant;
the further we went,
the more we lost sight.
At cards, I come to see
my fruitless precaution,
getting without book
when I can get the book.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 12 May 1660.
Tastes Like Chicken
Homage to Novica Tadić
A great hen, very angry, began
to pull down the dove and the lark,
a pretty dish.
The mouth dropped thirty guns
in a high debate with the sea.
It blew hard. The great fowl’s
mother was put to bed.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 11 May 1660.