All rise together

“…one more light, the bowl shall brim.” ~ Advent carol

Near winter break, my final year in Chicago
at the end of my fellowship, before I had to get back
on a plane to leave for our other country on the other
side of the world— After the first heavy snow,

you took me home to your family, more confident perhaps
than I about how they might take me in, someone I myself
had described as a woman with history. I think I baked
a chocolate cake— choosing three smooth-curved

bay leaves for improvised decoration atop
the buttercream. Did they sense how much I feared
not ever again being loved for who I was; not ever completely
finished or becoming? But after you told the gathering I was

the woman you wished to marry, your sisters
broke the ice: So where’s the ring, dude? Then
your mother, putting the kettle on the stove to boil
for tea, held out a box of matches and instructed:

Buhayin mo ang apoy, meaning Bring the flame to life.
Already I was in love but fell deeper in when your father,
rolling out dough on the table to make steamed buns, said
in response to my mumbled thanks for making room for me

over the holidays, Kasama ang lahat sa pag-alsa:
meaning The yeast makes all rise together. He stuffed
and shaped each disc, and after they were steamed it was true—
we held their heft and fragrance doubled, generous, in our hands.

~ in memoriam, Ruben B. Igloria Sr.

Everyday Altruism

Wind carries certain smells through the air:
sometimes a whiff of anise, smoky peat;

phosphorus, chocolate, wet dog. Driving
through the town closest to a poultry

processing plant, we held our breath
from the odors of dead or dying flesh.

How do they stand it, you asked, referring
to all the people who must be employed there,

cutting and dressing and packing parts.
They must hold masses of quivering pink

in their hands and lay them out in a certain
order: 12 to a tray, or 10, or 6; then vacuum-

seal them in casings of styrofoam and plastic.
There are certain things we don’t want to do

but that we’ll do anyway, because they
will matter to others. Some go deep

into the earth bearing no other hope
than a canary. Others go deeper still

to sacrifice who they might have been if not
for their desire to provide for others.

And the ocean is boundless, as the sky
is boundless; and we name them ocean

and sky though we don’t know which
secret name they would rather answer to.

24-hour news network

Up and to the office, where all the forenoon, and then (by Mr. Coventry’s coach) to the ‘Change, and so home to dinner, very pleasant with my poor wife. Somebody from Portsmouth, I know not who, has this day sent me a Runlett of Tent. So to my office all the afternoon, where much business till late at night, and so home to my wife, and then to supper and to bed.
This day Sir G. Carteret did tell us at the table, that the Navy (excepting what is due to the Yards upon the quarter now going on, and what few bills he hath not heard of) is quite out of debt; which is extraordinary good newes, and upon the ‘Change to hear how our creditt goes as good as any merchant’s upon the ‘Change is a joyfull thing to consider, which God continue! I am sure the King will have the benefit of it, as well as we some peace and creditt.

some mouth has run
all night and day

what ills not heard of
which extraordinary news as good
as any peace


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 3 December 1663.

Chewing

My wife troubled all last night with the toothache and this morning.
I up and to my office, where busy, and so home to dinner with my wife, who is better of her tooth than she was, and in the afternoon by agreement called on by Mr. Bland, and with him to the Ship a neighbour tavern and there met his antagonist Mr. Custos and his referee Mr. Clarke a merchant also, and begun the dispute about the freight of a ship hired by Mr. Bland to carry provisions to Tangier, and the freight is now demanded, whereas he says that the goods were some spoiled, some not delivered, and upon the whole demands 1300l. of the other, and their minds are both so high, their demands so distant, and their words so many and hot against one another that I fear we shall bring it to nothing. But however I am glad to see myself so capable of understanding the business as I find I do, and shall endeavour to do Mr. Bland all the just service I can therein.
Here we were in a bad room, which vexed me most, but we meet at another house next. So at noon I home and to my office till 9 o’clock, and so home to my wife to keep her company, arithmetique, then to supper, and to bed, she being well of her tooth again.

night tooth
bland antagonist of visions
and their distant words

I fear it as I do all
bad company


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 2 December 1663.

Horology

“To me, the universe is simply a great machine which never came into being and never will end.” ~ Nikola Tesla

There you are, prone in a white-sheeted bed
that faces a window. But where did you go

when the breath slipped momentarily
out of you, when your heart stalled

then startled and flew like a bird
into the limbs of a tree we could not see?

At one end of the lake, the skeleton of a wheel
traces the shape of a circle, its tangents

creaking in the wind. On the other end,
the roof of the planetarium slides open

so from our seats we can crane our necks
toward the sky. Between two points

of a pendulum swing lies a great
unfathomable silence with no allegiance

to either joy or sorrow; and the weight
of a silver-tipped censer, where smoke

and the body’s burning coals decrypt
the ticking of ancient stars.

Aral

Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning. At noon I home to dinner with my poor wife, with whom now-a-days I enjoy great pleasure in her company and learning of Arithmetique.
After dinner I to Guild Hall to hear a tryall at King’s Bench, before Lord Chief Justice Hide, about the insurance of a ship, the same I mention in my yesterday’s journall, where everything was proved how money was so taken up upon bottomary and insurance, and the ship left by the master and seamen upon rocks, where, when the sea fell at the ebb, she must perish. The master was offered helpe, and he did give the pilotts 20 sols to drink to bid them go about their business, saying that the rocks were old, but his ship was new, and that she was repaired for 6l. and less all the damage that she received, and is now brought by one, sent for on purpose by the insurers, into the Thames, with her cargo, vessels of tallow daubed over with butter, instead of all butter, the whole not worth above 500l., ship and all, and they had took up, as appeared, above 2,400l.. He had given his men money to content them; and yet, for all this, he did bring some of them to swear that it was very stormy weather, and [they] did all they could to save her, and that she was seven feete deep water in hold, and were fain to cut her main and foremast, that the master was the last man that went out, and they were fain to force [him] out when she was ready to sink; and her rudder broke off, and she was drawn into the harbour after they were gone, as wrecke all broken, and goods lost: that she could not be carried out again without new building, and many other things so contrary as is not imaginable more. There was all the great counsel in the kingdom in the cause; but after one witnesse or two for the plaintiff, it was cried down as a most notorious cheate; and so the jury, without going out, found it for the plaintiff. But it was pleasant to see what mad sort of testimonys the seamen did give, and could not be got to speak in order: and then their terms such as the judge could not understand; and to hear how sillily the Counsel and judge would speak as to the terms necessary in the matter, would make one laugh: and above all, a Frenchman that was forced to speak in French, and took an English oathe he did not understand, and had an interpreter sworn to tell us what he said, which was the best testimony of all. So home well satisfied with this afternoon’s work, purposing to spend an afternoon or two every term so, and so to my office a while and then home to supper, arithmetique with my wife, and to bed.
I heard other causes, and saw the course of pleading by being at this trial, and heard and learnt two things: one is that every man has a right of passage in, but not a title to, any highway. The next, that the judge would not suffer Mr. Crow, who hath fined for Alderman, to be called so, but only Mister, and did eight or nine times fret at it, and stop every man that called him so.

it was the sea not a ship
that was lost

a thing as imaginable as a great plain
going out

what mad sort of testimonies
the seamen give

forced to work on a highway
that would only stop


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 1 December 1663.

Surrealismo

Pipe not a pipe, angel not an angel.

Maybe snipers. Shovels aloft in the crowd.

Protesters close ranks, close ranks:

the tighter the better not to let

manic soldiers mow bodies down

with their army-issue trucks.

By the time the journalists arrive

there is red on the tires. The dead

want to abandon their graves. 30 years ago

we thought we were done. What kind of shit

is that formaldehyde, and what have they

buried in stealth? Wax mannikin, effigy

crawling with interior worms. Its widow

makes a scene, plastering the glass

with kisses. Drones circle overhead.

Reader

Was called up by a messenger from Sir W. Pen to go with him by coach to White Hall. So I got up and went with him, and by the way he began to observe to me some unkind dealing of mine to him a weeke or two since at the table, like a coxcomb, when I answered him pretty freely that I would not think myself to owe any man the service to do this or that because they would have it so (it was about taking of a mulct upon a purser for not keeping guard at Chatham when I was there), so he talked and I talked and let fall the discourse without giving or receiving any great satisfaction, and so to other discourse, but I shall know him still for a false knave. At White Hall we met the Duke in the Matted Gallery, and there he discoursed with us; and by and by my Lord Sandwich came and stood by, and talked; but it being St. Andrew’s, and a collar-day, he went to the Chappell, and we parted. From him and Sir W. Pen and I back again and ‘light at the ‘Change, and to the Coffee-house, where I heard the best story of a cheate intended by a Master of a ship, who had borrowed twice his money upon the bottomary, and as much more insured upon his ship and goods as they were worth, and then would have cast her away upon the coast of France, and there left her, refusing any pilott which was offered him; and so the Governor of the place took her and sent her over hither to find an owner, and so the ship is come safe, and goods and all; they all worth 500l., and he had one way or other taken 3000l.. The cause is to be tried to-morrow at Guildhall, where I intend to be.
Thence home to dinner, and then with my wife to her arithmetique. In the evening came W. Howe to see me, who tells me that my Lord hath been angry three or four days with him, would not speak to him; at last did, and charged him with having spoken to me about what he had observed concerning his Lordship, which W. Howe denying stoutly, he was well at ease; and continues very quiett, and is removing from Chelsy as fast as he can, but, methinks, both by my Lord’s looks upon me to-day, or it may be it is only my doubtfulness, and by W. Howe’s discourse, my Lord is not very well pleased, nor, it may be, will be a good while, which vexes me; but I hope all will over in time, or else I am but ill rewarded for my good service.
Anon he and I to the Temple and there parted, and I to my cozen Roger Pepys, whom I met going to his chamber; he was in haste, and to go out of town tomorrow. He tells me of a letter from my father which he will keep to read to me at his coming to town again. I perceive it is about my father’s jealousys concerning my wife’s doing ill offices with me against him only from the differences they had when she was there, which he very unwisely continues to have and troubles himself and friends about to speak to me in, as my Lord Sandwich, Mr. Moore, and my cozen Roger, which vexes me, but I must impute it to his age and care for my mother and Pall and so let it go.
After little discourse with him I took coach and home, calling upon my bookseller’s for two books, Rushworth’s and Scobell’s Collections. I shall make the King pay for them. The first I spent some time at the office to read and it is an excellent book. So home and spent the evening with my wife in arithmetique, and so to supper and to bed.
I end this month with my mind in good condition for any thing else, but my unhappy adventuring to disoblige my Lord by doing him service in representing to him the discourse of the world concerning him and his affairs.

called to observe like a guard at a gallery
the art refusing to be quiet

I look over it all and let it go
my books collect time

my mind in good condition
for venturing into the world


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 30 November 1663.

Sartorial

(Lord’s day). This morning I put on my best black cloth suit, trimmed with scarlett ribbon, very neat, with my cloake lined with velvett, and a new beaver, which altogether is very noble, with my black silk knit canons I bought a month ago.
I to church alone, my wife not going, and there I found my Lady Batten in a velvet gown, which vexed me that she should be in it before my wife, or that I am able to put her into one, but what cannot be, cannot be. However, when I came home I told my wife of it, and to see my weaknesse, I could on the sudden have found my heart to have offered her one, but second thoughts put it by, and indeed it would undo me to think of doing as Sir W. Batten and his Lady do, who has a good estate besides his office. A good dinner we had of boeuf a la mode, but not roasted so well as my wife used to do it. So after dinner I to the French Church, but that being too far begun I came back to St. Dunstan’s by six and heard a good sermon, and so home and to my office all the evening making up my accounts of this month, and blessed be God I have got up my crumb again to 770l., the most that ever I had yet, and good clothes a great many besides, which is a great mercy of God to me.
So home to supper and to bed.

I put on my best black
trimmed with black
silk on velvet gown

but O if I could have found my heart
that blessed crumb


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 29 November 1663.

Kisad

We’d walk down the hill and pass
the orchid-sellers, the hawkers
of small, brightly colored birds
caught in traps deep in the mountains.
At the corner of Chanum, the dentist’s
shiny polished Chevy Del Ray parked
in his driveway. In the market,
the slime of fish guts underfoot
and the vivid green of seaweed
in sellers’ baskets. Pressing
deeper in, past the stalls displaying
tiers of sausages and the dry goods
section, eventually we’d come upon
the currency changers. We bought
bars of Hershey’s chocolate there,
or small expensive cans of Spam
and potato chips. Coming back
we took our time, circling the man-
made lake and the rowboats lazy
on its surface— this world
small as the hollow of a teacup,
the rare sound of a chopper overhead.
In every yard at dusk, the brittle
tines of brooms sweeping over stones.