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.
Model citizen
Up and at the office sat all the morning, and at noon by Mr. Coventry’s coach to the ‘Change, and after a little while there where I met with Mr. Pierce, the chyrurgeon, who tells me for good newes that my Lord Sandwich is resolved to go no more to Chelsy, and told me he believed that I had been giving my Lord some counsel, which I neither denied nor affirmed, but seemed glad with him that he went thither no more, and so I home to dinner, and thence abroad to Paul’s Church Yard, and there looked upon the second part of Hudibras, which I buy not, but borrow to read, to see if it be as good as the first, which the world cry so mightily up, though it hath not a good liking in me, though I had tried by twice or three times reading to bring myself to think it witty. Back again home and to my office, and there late doing business and so home to supper and to bed. I have been told two or three times, but to-day for certain I am told how in Holland publickly they have pictured our King with reproach. One way is with his pockets turned the wrong side outward, hanging out empty; another with two courtiers picking of his pockets; and a third, leading of two ladies, while others abuse him; which amounts to great contempt.
tell me
which neither denied nor affirmed hit
not to see
which good times to bring myself
to think of at a public hanging
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 28 November 1663.
Win-Win
Is it irony or truth when you break
the fortune cookie open and find
an unmarked strip of paper?
What did you expect, the toenail
of a frog or the heart of a cow?
And when it says Every flower blooms
in its own sweet time, does it mean
the lottery for sure in spring?
Pick up the fork that falls to the floor
from the dinner table, try to push
the yellow from the broken yolk back
into its envelope of white. Good news
will be brought to you by mail. Happiness
will bring you luck. Happy life is just
in front of you. In case it’s true,
quick— take the fish off the line
and throw it back into the water.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Tether
Ledgers in file cabinets, receipt books yellow with age. Letters on thin blue aerogrammes. In 1977, what was the cost of a bottle of ink, a ream of paper, a brush? a one-way plane ticket? a winter coat? Starlings make dark liquid swirls across the skyline, and then begin again— each speck an accumulation of years, each shimmering gap the sum of things we packed into our pockets, our carry-ons, our check-ins. In the playground, the children find all manner of things in the sand: blue plastic hair comb, bent spoon, marble with a dusky orange flame still trapped inside. The moon gleams and the tide tugs gently at each boat’s anchor line.
What is the character for life pausing
at the threshold, wondering who will signal
when it’s time to slip out of the harbor?
In response to Via Negativa: Winter Harbor.
Winter harbor
Up and to my office, where busy with great delight all the morning, and at noon to the ‘Change, and so home to dinner with my poor wife, and with great content to my office again, and there hard at work upon stating the account of the freights due to the King from the East India Company till late at night, and so home to supper and to bed. My wife mightily pleased with my late discourse of getting a trip over to Calais, or some other port of France, the next summer, in one of the yachts, and I believe I shall do it, and it makes good sport that my mayde Jane dares not go, and Besse is wild to go, and is mad for joy, but yet will be willing to stay if Jane hath a mind, which is the best temper in this and all other things that ever I knew in my life.
ice busy with light
freights the yachts
my wild joy at this
other life
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 27 November 1663.
Verbiage
Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon I to the ‘Change, and there met with Mr. Cutler the merchant, who would needs have me home to his house by the Dutch Church, and there in an old but good house, with his wife and mother, a couple of plain old women, I dined a good plain dinner, and his discourse after dinner with me upon matters of the navy victualling very good and worth my hearing, and so home to my office in the afternoon with my mind full of business, and there at it late, and so home to supper to my poor wife, and to bed, myself being in a little pain in one of my testicles, by a stroke I did give it in pulling up my breeches yesterday over-eagerly, but I will lay nothing to it till I see whether it will cease of itself or no.
The plague, it seems, grows more and more at Amsterdam; and we are going upon making of all ships coming from thence and Hambrough, or any other infected places, to perform their Quarantine (for thirty days as Sir Rd. Browne expressed it in the order of the Council, contrary to the import of the word, though in the general acceptation it signifies now the thing, not the time spent in doing it) in Holehaven, a thing never done by us before.
who needs his hearing so full of nothing
we are all infected
quarantine the word in a hole
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 26 November 1663.
Amor fati
“…And then you will find every pain and every pleasure, every friend and every enemy, every hope and every error, every blade of grass and every ray of sunshine once more, and the whole fabric of things which make up your life.” ~ Notes on the Eternal Recurrence, Friedrich Nietzsche
In a crowded room, a cafeteria perhaps;
a gallery, school hallway, hospital corridor.
The nave of a church as people press
toward the exit, dipping their fingertips
in the holy water before they go— I feel
your eyes on me before I turn to meet you,
before I even learn your name. What if someone
told the cheerful birds whose notes tumble
out of their throats against a backdrop
of trees and water and sky: time, like love
and death, knows no bounds. Whether or not
I trimmed my hair or nails, or crossed
the street or washed my hair before bed:
I do not think I could revise anything,
even if I tried. A musky smell precedes rain;
everything glitters after it has fallen.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Refuge
Up and to Sir G. Carteret’s house, and with him by coach to Whitehall. He uses me mighty well to my great joy, and in our discourse took occasion to tell me that as I did desire of him the other day so he desires of me the same favour that we may tell one another at any time any thing that passes among us at the office or elsewhere wherein we are either dissatisfied one with another, and that I should find him in all things as kind and ready to serve me as my own brother. This methinks was very sudden and extraordinary and do please me mightily, and I am resolved by no means ever to lose him again if I can. He told me that he did still observe my care for the King’s service in my office.
He set me down in Fleet Street and thence I by another coach to my Lord Sandwich’s, and there I did present him Mr. Barlow’s “Terella,” with which he was very much pleased, and he did show me great kindnesse, and by other discourse I have reason to think that he is not at all, as I feared he would be, discontented against me more than the trouble of the thing will work upon him. I left him in good humour, and I to White Hall, to the Duke of York and Mr. Coventry, and there advised about insuring the hempe ship at 12 per cent., notwithstanding her being come to Newcastle, and I do hope that in all my three places which are now my hopes and supports I may not now fear any thing, but with care, which through the Lord’s blessing I will never more neglect, I don’t doubt but to keep myself up with them all. For in the Duke, and Mr. Coventry, my Lord Sandwich and Sir G. Carteret I place my greatest hopes, and it pleased me yesterday that Mr. Coventry in the coach (he carrying me to the Exchange at noon from the office) did, speaking of Sir W. Batten, say that though there was a difference between them, yet he would embrace any good motion of Sir W. Batten to the King’s advantage as well as of Mr. Pepys’ or any friend he had. And when I talked that I would go about doing something of the Controller’s work when I had time, and that I thought the Controller would not take it ill, he wittily replied that there was nothing in the world so hateful as a dog in the manger.
Back by coach to the Exchange, there spoke with Sir W. Rider about insuring, and spoke with several other persons about business, and shall become pretty well known quickly.
Thence home to dinner with my poor wife, and with great joy to my office, and there all the afternoon about business, and among others Mr. Bland came to me and had good discourse, and he has chose me a referee for him in a business, and anon in the evening comes Sir W. Warren, and he and I had admirable discourse. He advised me in things I desired about, bummary, and other ways of putting out money as in parts of ships, how dangerous they are.
And lastly fell to talk of the Dutch management of the Navy, and I think will helpe me to some accounts of things of the Dutch Admiralty, which I am mighty desirous to know.
He seemed to have been mighty privy with my Lord Albemarle in things before this great turn, and to the King’s dallying with him and others for some years before, but I doubt all was not very true. However, his discourse is very useful in general, though he would seem a little more than ordinary in this.
Late at night home to supper and to bed, my mind in good ease all but my health, of which I am not a little doubtful.
I am resolved to flee
to my sand castle
in which I may not fear anything
but time or anger
I shall be bland
as a discourse on ships
how dangerous it is to dally
with a little doubt
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 25 November 1663.
Whitelash
Fearsome historical angel,
you grasp at souls through every
transparency: bread that crumbles
in brown paper sacks, water
that runs through ancient pipes
to deliver its rust-tainted gift.
Clouds of gunpowder drift
through streets where the armless
burn effigies and raise their fists.
High in the hills, asterisks fall
from your frozen webs as though
we could pay wages with them.
There is so much you don’t know,
you whisper. You’re telling me,
I say. You’re telling me.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Robbed out
Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and at noon to the ‘Change, where everybody joyed me in our hemp ship’s coming safe, and it seems one man, Middleburgh, did give 20 per cent. in gold last night, three or four minutes before the newes came of her being safe.
Thence with Mr. Deane home and dined, and after dinner and a good deal of discourse of the business of Woolwich Yard, we opened his draught of a ship which he has made for me, and indeed it is a most excellent one and that that I hope will be of good use to me as soon as I get a little time, and much indebted I am to the poor man.
Toward night I by coach to Whitehall to the Tangier committee, and there spoke with my Lord and he seems mighty kind to me, but I will try him to-morrow by a visit to see whether he holds it or no. Then home by coach again and to my office, where late with Captain Miners about the East India business.
So home to supper and to bed, being troubled to find myself so bound as I am, notwithstanding all the physic that I take.
This day our tryall was with Field, and I hear that they have given him 29l. damage more, which is a strange thing, but yet not so much as formerly, nor as I was afeard of.
to see night in a safe
we open it a little
poor old miners
troubled to find no ore
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 24 November 1663.