(a cento)
The heart is not where
the heart should be
I read a book about microbes and fungi, how these critters
find a way into us, never leave
What else to know
of loss but how
a man's breast might cool
beneath your fingers
I created more loss where I meant to make less
Here, my one raucous prayer
coaxed from this poor drum,
my double heart
More than enough
is what I keep
getting
We are kin of the same ilk
here you are, a resurrection
Line sources:
Rigoberto Gonzalez; Martha Silano; Paisley Rekdal;
Dan Beachy-Quick; Patrick Rosal; Lia Purpura; Linda
Hogan; Eleni Sikelianos and Courtney Stephens
Killers
Up and to my house, and there contrived a way how Sir John Minnes shall come into the leads, and yet I save part of the closet I hoped for, which, if it will not please him, I am a madman to be troubled at it.
To my office, and then at my house among my lazy workmen all day. In the afternoon to the Wardrobe to speak with Mr. Townsend, who tells me that he has spoke with Mr. Young about my brother Tom’s business, and finds that he has made enquiry of him, and do hear him so well spoken of that he doubts not that the business will take with ordinary endeavours. So to my brother’s, and there finding both door and hatch open, I went in and knocked 3 or 4 times, and nobody came to me, which troubled me mightily; at last came Margaret, who complained of Peter, who by and by came in, and I did rattle him soundly for it.
I did afterwards take occasion to talk seriously alone with Margaret, who I find a very discreet, good woman, and tells me, upon my demand, that her master is a very good husband, and minds his business well, but his fault is that he has not command over his two men, but they do what they list, and care not for his commands, and especially on Sundays they go whither they please, and not to church, which vexes me mightily, and I am resolved to school [him] soundly for it, it being so much unlike my father, that I cannot endure it in myself or him.
So walked home and in my way at the Exchange found my uncle Wight, and he and I to an alehouse to drink a cup of beer, and so away, and I home and at the office till 9 o’clock and past, and so to my lodgings.
I forgot that last night Mr. Cooke came to me to make his peace for inviting my brother lately out of town without my leave, but he do give me such a character of the lady that he has found out for him that I do much rejoice at, and did this night write a letter to her, which he enclosed in one of his, and by the report that I hear of her I confess I am much pleased with the match.
if I am a madman
the war has made others
the door open
we knock
a body in
and rattle alone at church
like a letter to a match
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 10 September 1662.
Ouido
If there's something you don't want to do, you find
a way to avoid it. My father, for instance bit the ear
of the man charged with taking him to school. Granted
he was only a boy; and it's mostly cartilage in the ear.
I envy his gumption, even that bit of originality— not
thumb or hand or arm but a leap up, closing in on the ear.
I imagine he ran away through the fields, laughing while
their househelp bellowed on the path, clutching his ear.
When they caught up with him, did he get an earful?
Did someone drag him home, or to school, by the ear?
What I don't hear from the story he told, I fill in.
Then it's passed around, a little legend learned by ear.
Note that I don't say lie— think of the fleshy outer cup
and how it folds sound. Like jazz, I play ouido, or by ear.
Colonized (2)
At my office betimes, and by and by we sat, and at noon Mr. Coventry, Sir J. Minnes, Mr. Pett, and myself by water to Deptford, where we met Sir G. C., Sir W. B., and Sir W. P. at the pay of a ship, and we dined together on a haunch of good venison boiled, and after dinner returned again to the office, and there met several tradesmen by our appointment to know of them their lowest rates that they will take for their several provisions that they sell to us, for I do resolve to know that, and to buy no dearer, that so when we know the lowest rate, it shall be the Treasurer’s fault, and not ours, that we pay dearer.
This afternoon Sir John Minnes, Mr. Coventry, and I went into Sir John’s lodgings, where he showed us how I have blinded all his lights, and stopped up his garden door, and other things he takes notice of that he resolves to abridge me of, which do vex me so much that for all this evening and all night in my bed, so great a fool I am, and little master of my passion, that I could not sleep for the thoughts of my losing the privilege of the leads, and other things which in themselves are small and not worth half the trouble. The more fool am I, and must labour against it for shame, especially I that used to preach up Epictetus’s rule: τὰ ἐφ ἡμῖν κἰ τἀ οὐχ ἐφ ἡμῖν.
Late at my office, troubled in mind, and then to bed, but could hardly sleep at night.
we pay in good oil
for the visions they sell us
I know now the low lights
and stopped-up door
my thoughts are small
and labor against the night
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 9 September 1662, a revision of my original attempt.
Concatenation
In Manila, the poor are rattling
mansion gates and pelting glass
windows with balls of mud.
When floodwaters rise, they rise
with the force of imperfect contracts—
Would you build a dike lined with straw
and filched copper wires? Would you
build an empire with melted chains from
designer bags? Another hurricane is brewing
off the coast. Streets turn into canals
and their currents stir salt into bile,
bile into spite into storms of hatred.
Small expectations
Up betimes and to my office preparing an account to give the Duke this morning of what we have of late done at the office. About 7 o’clock I went forth thinking to go along with Sir John Minnes and the rest, and I found them gone, which did vex me, so I went directly to the old Swan and took boat before them to Sir G. Carteret’s lodgings at Whitehall, and there staying till he was dressed talking with him, he and I to St. James’s, where Sir Williams both and Sir John were come, and so up with Mr. Coventry to the Duke; who, after he was out of his bed, did send for us in; and, when he was quite ready, took us into his closet, and there told us that he do intend to renew the old custom for the Admirals to have their principal officers to meet them once a-week, to give them an account what they have done that week; which I am glad of: and so the rest did tell his Royal Highness that I could do it best for the time past. And so I produced my short notes, and did give him an account of all that we have of late done; and proposed to him several things for his commands, which he did give us, and so dismissed us. The rest to Deptford, I to the Exchequer to meet Mr. Townsend, where I hear he is gone to the Sun tavern, and there found him with some friends at breakfast, which I eat with him, and so we crossed the water together, and in walking I told him my brother Tom’s intentions for a wife, which he would do me all favour in to Mr. Young, whose kinswoman he do look after. We took boat again at the Falcon, and there parted, and I to the old Swan, and so to the Change, and there meeting Sir W. Warren did step to a tavern, and there sat and talked about price of masts and other things, and so broke up and to my office to see what business, and so we took water again at the Tower.
I over to Redriffe, and there left him in the boat and walked to Deptford, and there up and down the yard speaking with people, and so Sir W. Pen coming out of the payhouse did single me out to tell me Sir J. Minnes’ dislike of my blinding his lights over his stairs (which indeed is very bad) and blocking up the house of office on the leads. Which did trouble me. So I went into the payhouse and took an occasion of speaking with him alone, and did give him good satisfaction therein, so as that I am well pleased and do hope now to have my closet on the leads without any more trouble, for he do not object against my having a door upon the leads, but that all my family should not make it a thoroughfare, which I am contented with.
So to the pay, and in the evening home in the barge, and so to my office, and after doing some business there to my lodgings, and so to bed.
an old swan at rest
his best time past
where the sun and he
crossed the water together
you and I step
into a boat
like stairs up to a peak
we hope close to home
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 8 September 1662.
Poetry Blog Digest 2025, Week 36
A personal selection of posts from the Poetry Blogging Network and beyond. Although I tend to quote my favorite bits, please do click through and read the whole posts. You can also browse the blog digest archive at Via Negativa or, if you’d like it in your inbox, subscribe on Substack (where the posts might be truncated by some email providers).
This week: birds of omen, feral feminine energy, climbing a mountain in the dark, the father of the tar sands, and much more. Enjoy.
Continue reading “Poetry Blog Digest 2025, Week 36”Orientation
It is a marvel, how others can look
upon the world as if without fear.
Tomorrow is a horse waiting at the gate.
Mounted easy, sure of where to go.
Locks spring open: one
burnished one after another.
If I were the rider, would I
let the horse have its head?
Doubt begins small—sight of a gold
shell left on the side of the tree.
Where does the spirit go after
the body wriggles free of its case?
Civil unrest
(Lord’s day). Up betimes and round about by the streets to my office, and walked in the garden and in my office till my man Will rose, and then sent to tell Sir J. Minnes that I would go with him to Whitehall, which anon we did, in his coach, and to the Chapell, where I heard a good sermon of the Dean of Ely’s, upon returning to the old ways, and a most excellent anthem, with symphonys between, sung by Captain Cooke. Then home with Mr. Fox and his lady; and there dined with them, where much company come to them. Most of our discourse was what ministers are flung out that will not conform: and the care of the Bishop of London that we are here supplied with very good men.
Thence to my Lord’s, where nobody at home but a woman that let me in, and Sarah above, whither I went up to her and played and talked with her and, God forgive me, did feel her; which I am much ashamed of, but I did no more, though I had so much a mind to it that I spent in my breeches. After I had talked an hour or two with her I went and gave Mr. Hunt a short visit, he being at home alone, and thence walked homewards, and meeting Mr. Pierce, the chyrurgeon, he took me into Somersett House; and there carried me into the Queen-Mother’s presence-chamber, where she was with our own Queen sitting on her left hand (whom I did never see before); and though she be not very charming, yet she hath a good, modest, and innocent look, which is pleasing. Here I also saw Madam Castlemaine, and, which pleased me most, Mr. Crofts, the King’s bastard, a most pretty spark of about 15 years old, who, I perceive, do hang much upon my Lady Castlemaine, and is always with her; and, I hear, the Queens both of them are mighty kind to him. By and by in comes the King, and anon the Duke and his Duchess; so that, they being all together, was such a sight as I never could almost have happened to see with so much ease and leisure. They staid till it was dark, and then went away; the King and his Queen, and my Lady Castlemaine and young Crofts, in one coach and the rest in other, coaches. Here were great store of great ladies, but very few handsome.
The King and Queen were very merry; and he would have made the Queen-Mother believe that his Queen was with child, and said that she said so. And the young Queen answered, “You lye;” which was the first English word that I ever heard her say which made the King good sport; and he would have taught her to say in English, “Confess and be hanged.”
The company being gone I walked home with great content as I can be in for seeing the greatest rarity, and yet a little troubled that I should see them before my wife’s coming home, I having made a promise that I would not, nor did I do it industriously and by design, but by chance only. To my office, to fit myself for waiting on the Duke to-morrow morning with the rest of our company, and so to my lodgings and to bed.
streets returning
to symphonies
where we are nobody
but feel more at home
in the presence
of a pretty child
taught to say
confess and be hanged
with the rest
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 7 September 1662.
Conservative
Lay long, that is, till 6 and past before I rose, in order to sweat a little away the cold which I was afraid I might have got yesterday, but I bless God I am well. So up and to my office, and then we met and sat till noon, very full of business. Then Sir John Minnes, both Sir Williams and I to the Trinity House, where we had at dinner a couple of venison pasties, of which I eat but little, being almost cloyed, having been at five pasties in three days, namely, two at our own feast, and one yesterday, and two to-day. So home and at the office all the afternoon, busy till nine at night, and so to my lodging and to bed.
This afternoon I had my new key and the lock of my office door altered, having lost my key the other day, which vexed me.
long past
less past
a little past
I feast on yesterday all night
and lock my door
having lost
the other day
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 6 September 1662.

