(a cento)
4
Every dusk,
the longing.
Out in the sky, a comet flails.
Some thirsts should not be quenched.
You might still have something to say to me.
the stairs feel as if they descend further than they do.
or feel like a room in themselves, an afterthought.
Is it foreboding if
it's factual
I live in intricacies of the obvious. Into which I permit
The most beautiful thing about being
all by myself, is that nobody is there
One day we will be allowed to exist
it has been this way so long
Line sources:
Ayesha Asad, Isabel Baafi, Rewa Zeinati,
Mebh McGuckian, Stephanie ANderson, Aditi
Machado, Izzy Casey, Jennifer Espinoza,
Marissa Davis
A Crown of Dust
(a cento)
4
Every dusk,
the longing.
Out in the sky, a comet falls.
Some thirsts should not be quenched.
You might still have something to say to me..
the stairs feel as if they descend further than they do,
or feel like a room in themselves, an afterthought.
Is it foreboding if
It's factual
I live in intricacies of the obvious. Into which I permit
The most beautiful thing about being
all by myself, is that nobody is there
One day we will be allowed to exist
It has been this way so long
Line sources:
Vievee Francis, Ayesha Asad, Isabelle Baafi, Rewa
Zeinati, Mebh McGuckian, Stephanie Anderson, Aditi
Machado, Izzy Casey, Jennifer Espinoza, Marissa
Davis
Breezy with a chance of showers
(Lord’s day). Up very early, and Mr. Moore taking leave of me the barber came and trimmed me (I having him now to come to me again after I have used a pumice-stone a good while, not but what I like this where I cannot conveniently have a barber, but here I cannot keep my hair dry without one), and so by water to White Hall, by the way hearing that the Bishop of London had given a very strict order against boats going on Sundays, and as I come back again, we were examined by the masters of the company in another boat; but I told them who I was. But the door not being open to Westminster stairs there, called in at the Legg and drank a cup of ale and a toast, which I have not done many a month before, but it served me for my two glasses of wine to-day. Thence to St. James’s to Mr. Coventry, and there staid talking privately with him an hour in his chamber of the business of our office, and found him to admiration good and industrious, and I think my most true friend in all things that are fair. He tells me freely his mind of every man and in every thing.
Thence to White Hall chapel, where sermon almost done, and I heard Captain Cooke’s new musique. This the first day of having vialls and other instruments to play a symphony between every verse of the anthem; but the musique more full than it was the last Sunday, and very fine it is. But yet I could discern Captain Cooke to overdo his part at singing, which I never did before. Thence up into the Queen’s presence, and there saw the Queen again as I did last Sunday, and some fine ladies with her; but, my troth, not many.
Thence to Sir G. Carteret’s, and find him to have sprained his foot and is lame, but yet hath been at chappell, and my Lady much troubled for one of her daughters that is sick. I dined with them, and a very pretty lady, their kinswoman, with them. My joy is, that I do think I have good hold on Sir George and Mr. Coventry. Sir George told me of a chest of drawers that were given Sir W. B. by Hughes the rope-maker, whom he has since put out of his employment, and now the fellow do cry out upon Sir W. for his cabinet. So home again by water and to church, and from church Sir Williams both and Sir John Minnes into the garden, and anon Sir W. Pen and I did discourse about my lodgings and Sir J. Minnes, and I did open all my mind to him, and he told me what he had heard, and I do see that I shall hardly keep my best lodging chamber, which troubles me, but I did send for Goodenough the plasterer, who tells me that it did ever belong to my lodgings, but lent by Mr. Payles to Mr. Smith, and so I will strive hard for it before I lose it.
So to supper with them at Sir W. Batten’s, and do counterfeit myself well pleased, but my heart is troubled and offended at the whole company. So to my office to prepare notes to read to the Duke to-morrow morning, and so to my lodgings and to bed, my mind a little eased because I am resolved to know the worst concerning my lodgings tomorrow.
Among other things Sir W. Pen did tell me of one of my servants looking into Sir J. Minnes’ window when my Lady Batten lay there, which do much trouble them, and me also, and I fear will wholly occasion my loosing the leads. One thing more he told me of my Jane’s cutting off a carpenter’s long mustacho, and how the fellow cried, and his wife would not come near him a great while, believing that he had been among some of his wenches. At which I was merry, though I perceive they discourse of it as a crime of hers, which I understand not.
the stone at my door
called for two glasses of wine
between every verse
joy is a raw rope
no open mind shall keep
my best troubles
I counterfeit myself
a hole in my lodgings
a thin-looking wind
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 14 September 1662.
A Crown of Dust
(a cento)
3
closer than secret
the peonies rise up from the soil just to see
the roots naked, render
What I learned by height—
that's the story
How could I say no to you
at one time we couldn't see
where the water was born
Yes, of
course I'm afraid of death, but no less so
my
own life.
But the dream repeats itself. Every dusk,
the longing.
Line sources:
Yalie Saweda Kamara, Sally Wen MAo, Airea
D. Matthews, Kaveh Akbar, Brandy Nalani
mcDougall, Tarfia Faizullah, Vievee Francis
All fall down
Up betimes and to my office, and we sat all the morning, and then at noon dined alone at home, and so among my work folks studying how to get my way sure to me to go upon the leads, which I fear at last I must be contented to go without, but, however, my mind is troubled still about it. We met again in the afternoon to set accounts even between the King and the masters of ships hired to carry provisions to Lisbon, and in the evening Mr. Moore came to me and did lie with me at my lodgings. It is great pleasure to me his company and discourse, and did talk also about my law business, which I must now fall upon minding again, the term coming on apace. So to bed.
folks studying how to get out
bled out
again the red visions
with any talk about fall
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 13 September 1662.
A Crown of Dust
(a cento)
2
I only
borrowed this dust
pleasure
like a little animal
Scraps of lists, a paper flower
I've got questions of my own but
let's give a little
between here and gone,
a distance of hard words
you cannot dream with your mouth
Did we falter when love took us
the way that soap loves an airborne virus
we are closer
than secret
Line sources:
Stanley Kunitz, Fiona Templeton,
Elisa Gabbert, Adrienne Rich,
Douglas Kearney, Keith S. Wilson,
Sappho, francine j. harris, Yalie
Saweda Kamara
Vessel
Up betimes and to my office, and up to my workmen, which goes on slowly and troubles me much. Besides, my mind is troubled till I see how Sir John Minnes will carry himself to me about my lodgings, for all my fear is that he will get my best chamber from me, for as for the leads I care not a farthing for them.
At my office all the morning, Mr. Lewes teaching me to understand the method of making up Purser’s accounts, which is very needful for me and very hard. Dined at home all in dirt, and my mind weary of being thus out of order, but I hope in God it will away, but for the present I am very melancholy, as I have been a great while.
All the afternoon till 9 at night at my office, and then home and eat an egg or two, and so to my lodgings and to bed.
This day, by letters from my father, I hear that Captain Ferrers, who is with my Lord in the country, was at Brampton (with Mr. Creed) to see him; and that a day or two ago, being provoked to strike one of my Lord’s footmen, the footman drew his sword, and hath almost cut the fingers of one of his hands off; which I am sorry for: but this is the vanity of being apt to command and strike.
an ear for all teaching
a purse for all dirt
God for the present
melancholy as an egg
I count on my fingers
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 12 September 1662.
A Crown of Dust
(a cento)
1
the day could do without
me.
as though time in the heart never started
I dipped my feet into its emptiness
but upon which I lay my skull at night
A hawk flies over summer's body
Dough rising somewhere
The earth saying language and vision
are nothing
I
refuse, I refuse.
I worry about lost time
I only
borrowed this dust.
*
Line Sources:
Taylor Byas, Bejan Matur, Yaxkin Melchy Ramos,
Cate Marvin, Yiannis Isidorou, Ari Banias,
Sandra Lim, Andrea Cohen, Christian
Gullette, Stanley Kunitz
Blur
Four trucks parked on either side of a narrow street.
Electrical repair, plumbing, appliance delivery.
It's trash pickup day, and the city RCV can't seem
to navigate its usual route. It backs up and out
the other end.
Meanwhile, despite little rain, on 49th and several
intersections, signs of coastal flood warning.
Morning like a damp washcloth on your temples.
Mist in the air, all day the intermittent
drizzle.
Someone sights a line of pelicans
flying alongside the wind.
Look up, look up, how their wings
litter the sky.
Late riser
Up, but not so soon as I have of late practised, my little trouble of mind and the shortness of the days making me to lie a little longer than I used to do, but I must make it up by sitting up longer of nights. To my office, whither my brother Tom, whom I chide sufficiently for yesterday’s work. So we sat at the office all the morning, some of us at Deptford paying the ordinary there; at noon Sir W. Pen took me to his lodgings to dinner, and after dinner I to my office again, and now and then to see how my work goes on, and so to my office late, and so to my lodgings, and after staying up till past 12 at night, at my musique upon my lute, to bed. This night Tom came to show me a civil letter sent him from his mistress. I am pleased well enough with the business.
little mind making me
lie a little longer
must I sit
all morning in the mist
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 11 September 1662.

