Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
As soon as we have what we want
we regret something about it.
Pain returns, flushed like a new bud
popping open along the slender stem.
Practice is the meaning of one hand
cradling the solar plexus, the other
held outward as if to say stop or
I greet you or I am not here long.
In response to Via Negativa: Possessed.
Up pretty betimes, and awhile to my vyall, and then abroad to several places, to buy things for the furnishing my house and my wife’s closet, and then met my uncle Thomas, by appointment, and he and I to the Prerogative Office in Paternoster Row, and there searched and found my uncle Day’s will, end read it over and advised upon it, and his wife’s after him, and though my aunt Perkins testimony is very good, yet I fear the estate being great, and the rest that are able to inform us in the matter are all possessed of more or less of the estate, it will be hard for us ever to do anything, nor will I adventure anything till I see what part will be given to us by my uncle Thomas of all that is gained. But I had another end of putting my uncle into some doubt, that so I might keep him: yet from going into the country that he may be there against the Court at his own charge, and so I left him and his son at a loss what to do till I see them again. And so I to my Lord Crew’s, thinking to have dined there, but it was too late, and so back and called at my brother’s and Mr. Holden’s about several businesses, and went all alone to the Black Spread Eagle in Bride Lane, and there had a chopp of veale and some bread, cheese, and beer, cost me a shilling to my dinner, and so through Fleet Ally, God forgive me, out of an itch to look upon the sluts there, against which when I saw them my stomach turned, and so to Bartholomew Fayre, where I met with Mr. Pickering, and he and I to see the monkeys at the Dutch house, which is far beyond the other that my wife and I saw the other day; and thence to see the dancing on the ropes, which was very poor and tedious.
But he and I fell in discourse about my Lord Sandwich. He tells me how he is sorry for my Lord at his being at Chelsey, and that his but seeming so to my Lord without speaking one word, had put him clear out of my Lord’s favour, so as that he was fain to leave him before he went into the country, for that he was put to eat with his servants; but I could not fish from him, though I knew it, what was the matter; but am very sorry to see that my Lord hath thus much forgot his honour, but am resolved not to meddle with it.
The play being done, I stole from him and hied home, buying several things at the ironmonger’s — dogs, tongs, and shovels — for my wife’s closett and the rest of my house, and so home, and thence to my office awhile, and so home to supper and to bed. By my letters from Tangier today I hear that it grows very strong by land, and the Mole goes on. They have lately killed two hundred of the Moores, and lost about forty or fifty. I am mightily afeard of laying out too much money in goods upon my house, but it is not money flung away, though I reckon nothing money but when it is in the bank, till I have a good sum beforehand in the world.
possessed by an eagle
far beyond the sand
the fish goes on
lost in too much nothing
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 7 September 1663.
Green winds trouble the water
and rain opens its generous envelope.
It is like this every day at this
time of year: the mind’s tendency
to huddle into itself to make
better sense of itself, as the world
outside tries to remember. On rooftops,
small mallets of water at work
through the night. Moths
still as auguries on the white
sill. Memory the only dry field,
preparing its halls for exhibit.
In response to Via Negativa: Mendicant.
(Lord’s day). My pill I took last night worked very well, and I lay long in bed and sweat to get away the itching all about my body from head to foot, which is beginning again as it did the last winter, and I find after I am up that it is abated. I staid at home all day and my wife also, whom, God forgive me, I staid along with me for fear of her seeing of Pembleton. But she and I entertained one another all day long with great pleasure, contriving about my wife’s closet and the bedchamber, whither we intend to go up she and I to-day.
We dined alone and supped also at night, my brother John with us, and so to prayers and to bed.
I work and sweat to get away
itching
all foot and fin
I am who I fear seeing
in my closet at night
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 6 September 1663.
the water comes to lap
my shore and eat away
these long-defined
perimeters
how long before names vanish
from every last outpost
how long is left to me
with each diminishment
In response to Via Negativa: Salt cure.
Up betimes and to my viall awhile, and so to the office, and there sat, and busy all the morning. So at noon to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, where I met Creed, who dined with me, and after dinner mightily importuned by Captain Hicks, who came to tell my wife the names and story of all the shells, which was a pretty present he made her the other day.
He being gone, Creed, my wife, and I to Cornhill, and after many tryalls bought my wife a chintz, that is, a painted Indian calico, for to line her new study, which is very pretty.
So home with her, and then I away (Creed being gone) to Captain Minors upon Tower Hill, and there, abating only some impertinence of his, I did inform myself well in things relating to the East Indys; both of the country and the disappointment the King met with the last voyage, by the knavery of the Portugall Viceroy, and the inconsiderablenesse of the place of Bombaim, if we had had it. But, above all things, it seems strange to me that matters should not be understood before they went out; and also that such a thing as this, which was expected to be one of the best parts of the Queen’s portion, should not be better understood; it being, if we had it, but a poor place, and not really so as was described to our King in the draught of it, but a poor little island; whereas they made the King and Lord Chancellor, and other learned men about the King, believe that that, and other islands which are near it, were all one piece; and so the draught was drawn and presented to the King, and believed by the King and expected to prove so when our men came thither; but it is quite otherwise.
Thence to my office, and after several letters writ, home to supper and to bed, and took a pill. I hear this day that Sir W. Batten was fain to put ashore at Queenborough with my Lady, who has been so sick she swears never to go to sea again. But it happens well that Holmes is come home into the Downes, where he will meet my Lady, and it may be do her more good than she looked for. He brings news of the peace between Tangier and the Moors, but the particulars I know not. He is come but yesterday.
I came to name my place
a poor little island
after a pill
that shore
rough with wear
may do more good than I know
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 5 September 1663.
~ Ocypode quadrata
Salt freckling the air, signature
of the decomposing under every
chassis that wheels across the sand.
It doesn’t care if the light is translucent
on skin, it doesn’t want to hear
the constant echo of I, I, I
on every wind stream. Past the strandline,
litter swept in by a recent storm, among which
scavenger birds conduct sweeping investigations.
Blue flesh, ammonite of lyrical spirals—
I can’t help it if I sway, dizzy
in the labyrinth. Every hull I pick up
on the beach is clear warning,
though when I tilt my head the sky
still froths with what refuses
to be deleted. So many forms
from which to choose: fine fuzz, pale
thread, needle spinning on the surface.
Cracked carapace, heft of a bone left to dry; ashes
like bits of language, left in the pan after the fire.
In response to Via Negativa: Isolationist.
Up betimes, and an hour at my viall, and then abroad by water to White Hall and Westminster Hall, and there bought the first newes-books of L’Estrange’s writing; he beginning this week; and makes, methinks, but a simple beginning. Then to speak to Mrs. Lane, who seems desirous to have me come to see her and to have her company as I had a little while ago, which methinks if she were very modest, considering how I tumbled her and tost her, she should not.
Thence to Mrs. Harper, and sent for Creed, and there Mrs. Harper sent for a maid for me to come to live with my wife. I like the maid’s looks well enough, and I believe may do well, she looking very modestly and speaking so too. I directed her to speak with my wife, and so Creed and I away to Mr. Povy’s, and he not being at home, walked to Lincoln’s Inn walks, which they are making very fine, and about one o’clock went back to Povy’s; and by and by in comes he, and so we sat and down to dinner, and his lady, whom I never saw before (a handsome old woman that brought him money that makes him do as he does), and so we had plenty of meat and drink, though I drunk no wine, though mightily urged to it, and in the exact manner that I never saw in my life any where, and he the most full and satisfied in it that man can be in this world with any thing.
After dinner done, to see his new cellars, which he has made so fine with so noble an arch and such contrivances for his barrels and bottles, and in a room next to it such a grotto and fountayne, which in summer will be so pleasant as nothing in the world can be almost.
But to see how he himself do pride himself too much in it, and command and expect to have all admiration, though indeed everything do highly deserve it, is a little troublesome.
Thence Creed and I away, and by his importunity away by coach to Bartholomew Fayre, where I have no mind to go without my wife, and therefore rode through the fayre without ‘lighting, and away home, leaving him there; and at home made my wife get herself presently ready, and so carried her by coach to the fayre, and showed her the monkeys dancing on the ropes, which was strange, but such dirty sport that I was not pleased with it. There was also a horse with hoofs like rams hornes, a goose with four feet, and a cock with three. Thence to another place, and saw some German Clocke works, the Salutation of the Virgin Mary, and several Scriptural stories; but above all there was at last represented the sea, with Neptune, Venus, mermaids, and Ayrid on a dolphin, the sea rocking, so well done, that had it been in a gaudy manner and place, and at a little distance, it had been admirable.
Thence home by coach with my wife, and I awhile to the office, and so to supper and to bed. This day I read a Proclamation for calling in and commanding every body to apprehend my Lord Bristoll.
to live like a lock
exact and satisfied
so fine a contrivance
in such a grotto
but then to have
no light dancing on the sea
and the sea rocking at a distance
in every body
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 4 September 1663.
Hot summer in the city, walking
the streets to find a room
to rent: thinking the signs
on gates and windows spoke
a straightforward honesty
until inspection yielded
the crumbling insides, close
quarters, latrines with slats
on walls and open stalls,
the total lack of privacy.
Look what money can buy,
my father would say as we drove
past summer homes of the rich
and mostly absent from our hometown.
How do they make their money, I
wanted to know; how did their children,
who sat in the same schoolrooms as I,
never seem to worry or care about
anything? —not grades, not where
to sleep or eat; certainly not the future.
In response to Via Negativa: Riot.
Lord, there is the imprint
of a bee on the handle of the knife
that cuts through meat as if
effortlessly— let me be
that kind of courage
when I need to enter the dark
but need more than my hands
and eyes to see.