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Posted on by Dave Bonta

Omen

(Lord’s day). Up betimes, and put on a black cloth suit, with white lynings under all, as the fashion is to wear, to appear under the breeches. So being ready walked to St. James’s, where I sat talking with Mr. Coventry, while he made himself ready, about several businesses of the Navy, and afterwards, the Duke being gone out, he and I walked to White Hall together over the Park, I telling him what had happened to Tom Hater, at which he seems very sorry, but tells me that if it is not made very publique, it will not be necessary to put him away at present, but give him good caution for the time to come. However, he will speak to the Duke about it and know his pleasure.
Parted with him there, and I walked back to St. James’s, and was there at mass, and was forced in the crowd to kneel down; and mass being done, to the King’s Head ordinary, whither I sent for Mr. Creed and there we dined, where many Parliament-men; and most of their talk was about the news from Scotland, that the Bishop of Galloway was besieged in his house by some women, and had like to have been outraged, but I know not how he was secured; which is bad news, and looks just as it did in the beginning of the late troubles. From thence they talked of rebellion; and I perceive they make it their great maxime to be sure to master the City of London, whatever comes of it or from it. After that to some other discourse, and, among other things, talking of the way of ordinaries, that it is very convenient, because a man knows what he hath to pay: one did wish that, among many bad, we could learn two good things of France, which were that we would not think it below the gentleman, or person of honour at a tavern, to bargain for his meat before he eats it; and next, to take no servant without certificate from some friend or gentleman of his good behaviour and abilities.
Hence with Creed into St. James’s Park, and there walked all the afternoon, and thence on foot home, and after a little while at my office walked in the garden with my wife, and so home to supper, and after prayers to bed. My brother Tom supped with me, and should have brought my aunt Ellen with him; she was not free to go abroad.

I put on a black suit
with white lining

and go out like a bad city
of whatever comes

so convenient to bargain on
so free a road


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 10 May 1663.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Secret mother

I pine for a photograph.
In it, my secret mother
is perhaps seventeen,

and I barely one
in her arms. She wears
a veil that covers her head

and falls around her shoulders,
lace cutouts like the puzzle
pieces from this story.

I’m not even sure
I know what it is I want
to know: whether my father,

barely two years married
to my official mother,
took something he

shouldn’t have,
or if it was freely
given. I know

there is
such a picture.
I fingered it often

when I was young,
before I even knew
what was missing.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Mirage

We let the vines grow wild
beyond the back door;

but in time, even the front
was hard to keep free

of overgrowth. We propped
old rowboats against

the falling-down garage;
broken oars lined

the garden beds. Grass grew
impartially around the space

we once called home. Sometimes
in dreams I brush aside

a curtain of green and step
into a clearing, blinking.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Complementarity.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Barber shop

Up betimes and to my office, whither sooner than ordinary comes Mr. Hater desiring to speak a word to me alone, which I was from the disorder of his countenance amused at, and so the poor man began telling me that by Providence being the last Lord’s day at a meeting of some Friends upon doing of their duties, they were surprised, and he carried to the Counter, but afterwards released; however, hearing that Sir W. Batten do hear of he thought it good to give me an account of it, lest it might tend to any prejudice to me. I was extraordinary surprised with it, and troubled for him, knowing that now it is out it is impossible for me to conceal it, or keep him in employment under me without danger to myself. I cast about all I could, and did give him the best advice I could, desiring to know if I should promise that he would not for the time to come commit the same, he told me he desired that I would rather forbear to promise that, for he durst not do it, whatever God in His providence shall do with him, and that for my part he did bless God and thank me for all the love and kindness I have shewed him hitherto. I could not without tears in my eyes discourse with him further, but at last did pitch upon telling the truth of the whole to Mr. Coventry as soon as I could, and to that end did use means to prevent Sir W. Batten (who came to town last night) from going to that end to-day, lest he might doe it to Sir G. Carteret or Mr. Coventry before me; which I did prevail and kept him at the office all the morning.
At noon dined at home with a heavy heart for the poor man, and after dinner went out to my brother’s, and thence to Westminster, where at Mr. Jervas’s, my old barber, I did try two or three borders and perriwiggs, meaning to wear one; and yet I have no stomach but that the pains of keeping my hair clean is so great. He trimmed me, and at last I parted, but my mind was almost altered from my first purpose, from the trouble that I foresee will be in wearing them also. Thence by water home and to the office, where busy late, and so home to supper and bed, with my mind much troubled about T. Hater.

telling me about
the bear that came to town
my old barber


Erasure haiku derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 9 May 1663.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Personal development

Up very early and to my office, there preparing letters to my father of great import in the settling of our affairs, and putting him upon a way [of] good husbandry, I promising to make out of my own purse him up to 50l. per annum, till either by my uncle Thomas’s death or the fall of the Wardrobe place he be otherwise provided.
That done I by water to the Strand, and there viewed the Queen-Mother’s works at Somersett House, and thence to the new playhouse, but could not get in to see it. So to visit my Lady Jemimah, who is grown much since I saw her; but lacks mightily to be brought into the fashion of the court to set her off.
Thence to the Temple, and there sat till one o’clock reading at Playford’s in Dr. Usher’s ‘Body of Divinity’ his discourse of the Scripture, which is as much, I believe, as is anywhere said by any man, but yet there is room to cavill, if a man would use no faith to the tradition of the Church in which he is born, which I think to be as good an argument as most is brought for many things, and it may be for that among others.
Thence to my brother’s, and there took up my wife and Ashwell to the Theatre Royall, being the second day of its being opened. The house is made with extraordinary good contrivance, and yet hath some faults, as the narrowness of the passages in and out of the Pitt, and the distance from the stage to the boxes, which I am confident cannot hear; but for all other things it is well, only, above all, the musique being below, and most of it sounding under the very stage, there is no hearing of the bases at all, nor very well of the trebles, which sure must be mended.
The play was “The Humerous Lieutenant,” a play that hath little good in it, nor much in the very part which, by the King’s command, Lacy now acts instead of Clun. In the dance, the tall devil’s actions was very pretty.
The play being done, we home by water, having been a little shamed that my wife and woman were in such a pickle, all the ladies being finer and better dressed in the pitt than they used, I think, to be.
To my office to set down this day’s passage, and, though my oath against going to plays do not oblige me against this house, because it was not then in being, yet believing that at the time my meaning was against all publique houses, I am resolved to deny myself the liberty of two plays at Court, which are in arreare to me for the months of March and April, which will more than countervail this excess, so that this month of May is the first that I must claim a liberty of going to a Court play according to my oath.
So home to supper, and at supper comes Pembleton, and afterwards we all up to dancing till late, and so broke up and to bed, and they say that I am like to make a dancer.

I make my death grow
into a room for others

in a narrow pit
there is no play

I must claim liberty
like a dancer


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 8 May 1663.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Home Movies

Our neighbor’s daughter Doris and I were flower girls. It was my aunt’s wedding. Only, twenty-eight years later I learned she was both my aunt and my mother. I was confused, but I would have been more confused back then. Doris was nine and I was seven. We were allowed to wear lipstick for the wedding. She knew all about it— how you were supposed to press your lips together after the stretch and pucker; then blot the excess off on tissue paper. How she said to watch and see, brides often fainted midway through the ceremony. How of course you’d run out of air, what with all that ivory lace and satin tightly cinched around a growing waistline.

*

On my own wedding day no coterie of girls my age, nor friends, came to giggle and fuss, powder and pencil, fill in the outlines of me. Instead there were Judith and Emily, two women my father knew from work, who came with their pots and pancakes, their lipsticks and feathered blushes. What did I know? I did not own any myself. They braided my hair and lay the plait across the top of my head. Eighteen, but I was a cross between milkmaid and novice: flushed cheeks, severe high-collared gown, long sleeves buttoned at the wrists. Beautiful, they pronounced. I looked, but didn’t see anyone I recognized.

*

At the reception, one of father’s wealthy cousins paid the whole tab on the open bar. I heard there was a drunken brawl afterward in the parking lot. The details don’t even matter— such things often began with something simple. Ukininam; lukdit mo. Fuck you; dickhead. The piano kept on playing.

*

In the money dance, the guests come up with bills and silver seamstress’ pins. There is some sort of contest to see which side— the groom’s or bride’s— will paper them with the most money. We sprout shingles, little pennants on sleeves, my skirt, my veil. As the music plays we grow uneven armor, a blue-green covering shot through with many gaping holes.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Complementarity

Up betimes and to my office awhile, and then by water with my wife, leaving her at the new Exchange, and I to see Dr. Williams, and spoke with him about my business with Tom Trice, and so to my brother’s, who I find very careful now-a-days, more than ordinary in his business and like to do well. From thence to Westminster, and there up and down from the Hall to the Lobby, the Parliament sitting. So by coach to my Lord Crew’s, and there dined with him. He tells me of the order the House of Commons have made for the drawing an Act for the rendering none capable of preferment or employment in the State, but who have been loyall and constant to the King and Church; which will be fatal to a great many, and makes me doubt lest I myself, with all my innocence during the late times, should be brought in, being employed in the Exchequer; but, I hope, God will provide for me.
This day the new Theatre Royal begins to act with scenes the Humourous Lieutenant, but I have not time to see it, nor could stay to see my Lady Jemimah lately come to town, and who was here in the house, but dined above with her grandmother. But taking my wife at my brother’s home by coach, and the officers being at Deptford at a Pay we had no office, but I took my wife by water and so spent the evening, and so home with great pleasure to supper, and then to bed.
Sir Thomas Crew this day tells me that the Queen, hearing that there was 40,000l. per annum brought into her account among the other expences of the Crown to the Committee of Parliament, she took order to let them know that she hath yet for the payment of her whole family received but 4,000l., which is a notable act of spirit, and I believe is true.

ice and water exchange days
like a parliament of one

doubt will provide a new home
for that which I believe is true


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 7 May 1663.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Yes, write your own vows

It’s easier
this way, with no one
to have to give her daughter

away— No walk down an aisle
with a parent on each side,
as her parents flanked her

thirty-six years ago,
the priest meeting them
at the foot of the altar

to ask Who gives this woman
away? As if in that moment,
every misgiving could resolve

with a simple phrase. What was
released? resigned? She doesn’t
have the album anymore

which was made of that entire
evening— a handspan thick,
each page crowded with faces

which she now barely recalls.
When two of her daughters tell her
their father has said he can’t be

a father to them, she feels again
the papery edges of that wound
but closes the book more

firmly now each time.

Posted on by Dave Bonta

Whale light

Up betimes and to my office a good while at my new rulers, then to business, and towards noon to the Exchange with Creed, where we met with Sir J. Minnes coming in his coach from Westminster, who tells us, in great heat, that, by God, the Parliament will make mad work; that they will render all men incapable of any military or civil employment that have borne arms in the late troubles against the King, excepting some persons; which, if it be so, as I hope it is not, will give great cause of discontent, and I doubt will have but bad effects.
I left them at the Exchange and walked to Paul’s Churchyard to look upon a book or two, and so back, and thence to the Trinity House, and there dined, where, among other discourse worth hearing among the old seamen, they tell us that they have catched often in Greenland in fishing whales with the iron grapnells that had formerly been struck into their bodies covered over with fat; that they have had eleven hogsheads of oyle out of the tongue of a whale.
Thence after dinner home to my office, and there busy till the evening. Then home and to supper, and while at supper comes Mr. Pembleton, and after supper we up to our dancing room and there danced three or four country dances, and after that a practice of my coranto I began with him the other day, and I begin to think that I shall be able to do something at it in time. Late and merry at it, and so weary to bed.

the mad will render
a great green whale
into oil

the tongue of a whale
comes to dance
late and weary


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 6 May 1663.

Posted on by Luisa A. Igloria

Not Pomegranate but Sugar Apple

There was never snow,
so I could not hide my rage
in a mantle of cold.

And when I bore daughters,
my body was green but scored,
as if ready for perforation.

Did I think I was the one
abducted? Of course
it makes so much

sense. It took years
for my head to feel unwound
from layers, for me to bring

myself to count each
dark seed I spat out
from the heart of milk-

sweet flesh. This fruit
I cradle in my hand, little
grenade that bursts so easy.