Over rage

Sam Pepys and me

Up and to the office, where we sat all the morning, and Sir W. Pen and I had a word or two, where by opposing him in not being willing to excuse a mulct put upon the purser of the James, absent from duty, he says, by his business and order, he was mighty angry, and went out of the office like an asse discontented: At which I am never a whit sorry; I would not have [him] think that I dare not oppose him, where I see reason and cause for it.
Home to dinner, and then by coach abroad about several businesses to several places, among others to Westminster Hall, where, seeing Howlett’s daughter going out of the other end of the Hall, I followed her if I would to have offered talk to her and dallied with her a little, but I could not overtake her.
Then calling at Unthank’s for something of my wife’s not done, a pretty little gentlewoman, a lodger there, came out to tell me that it was not yet done, which though it vexed me yet I took opportunity of taking her by the hand with the boot, and so found matter to talk a little the longer to her, but I was ready to laugh at myself to see how my anger would not operate, my disappointment coming to me by such a messenger. Thence to Doctors’ Commons and there consulted Dr. Turner about some differences we have with the officers of the East India ships about goods brought by them without paying freight, which we demand of them.
So home to my office, and there late writing letters, and so home to supper and to bed, having got a scurvy cold by lying cold in my head the last night.
This day Captain Taylor brought me a piece of plate, a little small state dish, he expecting that I should get him some allowance for demorage of his ship “William,” kept long at Tangier, which I shall and may justly do.

absent like a reason
to howl or not

no longer anger
is coming out

as cold in my head
as a small state


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 7 November 1663.

Surprise ending

Sam Pepys and me

This morning waking, my wife was mighty-earnest with me to persuade me that she should prove with child since last night, which, if it be, let it come, and welcome. Up to my office, whither Commissioner Pett came, newly come out of the country, and he and I walked together in the garden talking of business a great while, and I perceive that by our countenancing of him he do begin to pluck up his head, and will do good things I hope in the yard. Thence, he being gone, to my office and there dispatched many people, and at noon to the ‘Change to the coffee-house, and among other things heard Sir John Cutler say, that of his owne experience in time of thunder, so many barrels of beer as have a piece of iron laid upon them will not be soured, and the others will. Thence to the ‘Change, and there discoursed with many people, and I hope to settle again to my business and revive my report of following of business, which by my being taken off for a while by sickness and, laying out of money has slackened for a little while.
Home, and there found Mrs. Hunt, who dined very merry, good woman; with us. After dinner came in Captain Grove, and he and I alone to talk of many things, and among many others of the Fishery, in which he gives the such hopes that being at this time full of projects how to get a little honestly, of which some of them I trust in God will take, I resolved this afternoon to go and consult my Lord Sandwich about it, and so, being to carry home Mrs. Hunt, I took her and my wife by coach and set them at Axe Yard, and I to my Lord’s and thither sent for Creed and discoursed with him about it, and he and I to White Hall, where Sir G. Carteret and my Lord met me very fortunately, and wondered first to see me in my perruque, and I am glad it is over, and then, Sir G. Carteret being gone, I took my Lord aside, who do give me the best advice he can, and telling me how there are some projectors, by name Sir Edward Ford, who would have the making of farthings, and out of that give so much to the King for the maintenance of the Fishery; but my Lord do not like that, but would have it go as they offered the last year, and so upon my desire he promises me when it is seasonable to bring me into the commission with others, if any of them take, and I perceive he and Mr. Coventry are resolved to follow it hard.
Thence, after walking a good while in the Long gallery, home to my Lord’s lodging, my Lord telling me how my father did desire him to speak to me about my giving of my sister something, which do vex me to see that he should trouble my Lord in it, but however it is a good occasion for me to tell my Lord my condition, and so I was glad of it. After that we begun to talk of the Court, and he tells me how Mr. Edward Montagu begins to show respect to him again after his endeavouring to bespatter him all was, possible; but he is resolved never to admit him into his friendship again. He tells me how he and Sir H. Bennet, the Duke of Buckingham and his Duchesse, was of a committee with somebody else for the getting of Mrs. Stewart for the King; but that she proves a cunning slut, and is advised at Somerset House by the Queene-Mother, and by her mother, and so all the plot is spoiled and the whole committee broke. Mr. Montagu and the Duke of Buckingham fallen a-pieces, the Duchesse going to a nunnery; and so Montagu begins to enter friendship with my Lord, and to attend the Chancellor whom he had deserted. My Lord tells me that Mr. Montagu, among other things, did endeavour to represent him to the Chancellor’s sons as one that did desert their father in the business of my Lord of Bristoll; which is most false, being the only man that hath several times dined with him when no soul hath come to him, and went with him that very day home when the Earl impeached him in the Parliament House, and hath refused ever to pay a visit to my Lord of Bristoll, not so much as in return to a visit of his. So that the Chancellor and my Lord are well known and trusted one by another. But yet my Lord blames the Chancellor for desiring to have it put off to the next Session of Parliament, contrary to my Lord Treasurer’s advice, to whom he swore he would not do it: and, perhaps, my Lord Chancellor, for aught I see by my Lord’s discourse, may suffer by it when the Parliament comes to sit.
My Lord tells me that he observes the Duke of York do follow and understand business very well, and is mightily improved thereby. Here Mr. Pagett coming in I left my Lord and him, and thence I called my wife and her maid Jane and by coach home and to my office, where late writing some things against tomorrow, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning Mr. Blackburne came to me to let me know that he had got a lodging very commodious for his kinsman, and so he is ready at my pleasure to go when I would bid him, and so I told him that I would in a day or two send to speak with him and he and I would talk and advise Will what to do, of which I am very glad.

let it come out of the country
of pluck and patched people

a time to settle many things
one wondered to see

like the last season
of some tv show

how the body of the plot
is fallen to pieces

and the soul impeached
on her commodious peak


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 6 November 1663.

Watch Your Step

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

Watch your step, you’re told, one step ahead 
of falling or breaking. Or take care, which can house 
real care and also, unsurprisingly these days, a threat. 
A doublespeak, an always-guessing what a moment 
might really mean. How to tell an innocence from
an evil, or when someone who says I mean it really 
means it? In the movie you watched, a security guard 
makes a lewd remark to the tee-girl. The golf depot 
manager makes a pass at a female caddy then huffs 
about how no one can make or take a joke anymore. 
Someone’s always telling you to lighten up and not be 
so serious. You still don’t know how the plot resolved, 
or if it did—did she swing the golf club at his head? Did she 
think she was trying to save someone, or did she drown?

What’s Visible

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
Something inside you tremors when the surface
is touched by feeling. That thing about the heart
worn on a sleeve—a guilelessness perceived by others,
which means feeling rises—a flush, a stutter, or tears—
more rapidly than any thought could clothe it first
in something not so naked. Tonight it’s all you can do
to keep from dissolving—the sight of people putting
their I Voted stickers on lampposts near where Alex
and Renee were murdered, the news of blue wins in near
every state. Someone you love telling you this is the first
time in years they did not wish, almost every minute,
to die. On the outside, you’ve learned to appear calm,
even if your heart's racing. You're always lurching one
step ahead to keep something from falling, breaking.

Deferred

Sam Pepys and me

Lay long in bed, then up, called by Captain Cocke about business of a contract of his for some Tarre, and so to the office, and then to Sir W. Pen and there talked, and he being gone came Sir W. Warren and discoursed about our business with Field, and at noon by agreement to the Miter to dinner upon T. Trice’s 40s., to be spent upon our late agreement. Here was a very poor dinner and great company. All our lawyers on both sides, and several friends of his and some of mine brought by him, viz., Mr. Moore, uncle Wight, Dr. Williams, and my cozen Angier, that lives here in town, who after dinner carried me aside and showed me a letter from his poor brother at Cambridge to me of the same contents with that yesterday to me desiring help from me.
Here I was among a sorry company without any content or pleasure, and at the last the reckoning coming to above 40s. by 15s., he would have me pay the 10s. and he would pay the 5s., which was so poor that I was ashamed of it, and did it only to save contending with him. There, after agreeing a day for him and I to meet and seal our agreement, I parted and home, and at the office by agreement came Mr. Shales, and there he and I discourse till late the business of his helping me in the discovery of some arrears of provisions and stores due to the stores at Portsmouth, out of which I may chance to get some money, and save the King some too, and therefore I shall endeavour to do the fellow some right in other things here to his advantage between Mr. Gauden and him.
He gone my wife and I to her arithmetique, in which she pleases me well, and so to the office, there set down my Journall, and so home to supper and to bed. A little troubled to see how my family is out of order by Will’s being there, and also to hear that Jane do not please my wife as I expected and would have wished.

the one war
on the poor is here

we let that yesterday outlast
the reckoning of it

only contending with
the business of visions

to save some right to
my own little wish


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 5 November 1663.

Mouthy

Sam Pepys and me

Up and to my office, shewing myself to Sir W. Batten, and Sir J. Minnes, and no great matter made of my periwigg, as I was afeard there would be. Among other things there came to me Shales of Portsmouth, by my order, and I began to discourse with him about the arrears of stores belonging to the Victualling Office there, and by his discourse I am in some that if I can get a grant from the King of such a part of all I discover I may chance to find a way to get something by the by, which do greatly please me the very thoughts of. Home to dinner, and very pleasant with my wife, who is this day also herself making of marmalett of quince, which she now do very well herself. I left her at it and by coach I to the New Exchange and several places to buy and bring home things, among others a case I bought of the trunk maker’s for my periwigg, and so home and to my office late, and among other things wrote a letter to Will’s uncle to hasten his removal from me, and so home to supper and to bed. This morning Captain Cocke did give me a good account of the Guinny trade. The Queene is in a great way to recovery. This noon came John Angier to me in a pickle, I was sad to see him, desiring my good word for him to go a trooper to Tangier, but I did schoole him and sent him away with good advice, but no present encouragement. Presently after I had a letter from his poor father at Cambridge, who is broke, it seems, and desires me to get him a protection, or a place of employment; but, poor man, I doubt I can helpe him, but will endeavour it.

my mouth is a part
of all I discover

thin as the thoughts
of a king of marmalade

in recovery from his poor
fat desires


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 4 November 1663.

In the mist

Sam Pepys and me

Up and to the office, where busy all the morning, and at noon to the Coffee-house, and there heard a long and most passionate discourse between two doctors of physique, of which one was Dr. Allen, whom I knew at Cambridge, and a couple of apothecarys; these maintaining chymistry against them Galenicall physique; and the truth is, one of the apothecarys whom they charged most, did speak very prettily, that is, his language and sense good, though perhaps he might not be so knowing a physician as to offer to contest with them. At last they came to some cooler terms, and broke up. I home, and there Mr. Moore coming by my appointment dined with me, and after dinner came Mr. Goldsborough, and we discoursed about the business of his mother, but could come to no agreement in it but parted dissatisfied. By and by comes Chapman, the periwigg-maker, and upon my liking it, without more ado I went up, and there he cut off my haire, which went a little to my heart at present to part with it; but, it being over, and my periwigg on, I paid him 3l. for it; and away went he with my owne haire to make up another of, and I by and by, after I had caused all my mayds to look upon it; and they conclude it do become me; though Jane was mightily troubled for my parting of my own haire, and so was Besse, I went abroad to the Coffeehouse, and coming back went to Sir W. Pen and there sat with him and Captain Cocke till late at night, Cocke talking of some of the Roman history very well, he having a good memory. Sir W. Pen observed mightily, and discoursed much upon my cutting off my haire, as he do of every thing that concerns me, but it is over, and so I perceive after a day or two it will be no great matter.

the morning bridge
and the mist

they speak prettily
a language knowing

some cooler terms
in an old discourse

another look for air
in the history of a day


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 3 November 1663.

From Inside of You

river in November light between bare woods and mountain
Send away what no longer serves, with proper ceremony.
You’ve done this before, but perhaps incorrectly, thinking
that unburdening’s a simple thing. How hard could it be,
right? To set down the girl you were, awkward and green,
heart-sore, astounded at how much could be asked of a body
that gave itself to another body to afterward beget other
bodies. This isn’t to say it was only just about bodies.
But you still can’t get over the astonishment of stumbling,
groggy, from the hospital bed that first time, and pushing
the IV pole with you to the bathroom. When a sheet
of coagulated blood slipped out of you and to the floor,
you bent down and cradled the whole, slippery thing
in your hands, flushed it down the toilet. Reddened palms,
fingers, touched something that issued from inside of you.

I follow whatever I see / of myself in sleep— *

river in November light between bare woods and mountain

The way wends down these southern streets,
where houses with their wraparound porches
stand next to each other, though there might not  
be any movement behind the curtains. It’s a rare
sight these days: a pair of old-timers on rocking 
chairs taking the air, trading notes on the weather 
or whose child finally finished school or if we are in
for another wet winter. Once, I followed myself
to the shore—a windy night, sky of blackest blue
—and looked east. At least, that’s what I thought
I was supposed to do: bring this simmering
heartsickness to this place at the edge of water,
fold and crease it into shape. Send it away
with proper ceremony. Wish it well.


* – “Peripatetic”

Peripatetic

Sam Pepys and me

Up, and by coach to White Hall, and there in the long Matted Gallery I find Sir G. Carteret, Sir J. Minnes, and Sir W. Batten — and by and by comes the King to walk there with three or four with him; and soon as he saw us, says he, “Here is the Navy Office,” and there walked twenty turns the length of the gallery, talking, methought, but ordinary talke. By and by came the Duke, and he walked, and at last they went into the Duke’s lodgings. The King staid so long that we could not discourse with the Duke, and so we parted. I heard the Duke say that he was going to wear a perriwigg; and they say the King also will. I never till this day observed that the King is mighty gray.
Thence, meeting with Creed, walked with him to Westminster Hall, and thence by coach took up Mrs. Hunt, and carried her towards my house, and we light at the ‘Change, and sent her to my house, Creed and I to the Coffeehouse, and then to the ‘Change, and so home, and carried a barrel of oysters with us, and so to dinner, and after a good dinner left Mrs. Hunt and my wife making marmalett of quinces, and Creed and I to the perriwigg makers, but it being dark concluded of nothing, and so Creed went away, and I with Sir W. Pen, who spied me in the street, in his coach home.
There found them busy still, and I up to my vyall. Anon, the comfiture being well done, my wife and I took Mrs. Hunt at almost 9 at night by coach and carried Mrs. Hunt home, and did give her a box of sugar and a haunch of venison given me by my Lady the other day. We did not ‘light, but saw her within doors, and straight home, where after supper there happening some discourse where my wife thought she had taken Jane in a lie, she told me of it mighty triumphantly, but I, not seeing reason to conclude it a lie, was vexed, and my wife and I to very high words, wherein I up to my chamber, and she by and by followed me up, and to very bad words from her to me, calling me perfidious and man of no conscience, whatever I pretend to, and I know not what, which troubled me mightily, and though I would allow something to her passion, yet I see again and again that she spoke but somewhat of what she had in her heart. But I tempered myself very well, so as that though we went to bed with discontent she yielded to me and began to be fond, so that being willing myself to peace, we did before we sleep become very good friends, it being past 12 o’clock, and so with good hearts and joy to rest.

I walk off my coffee
on Nothing Street

the night coach
a box of light

doors happening
into high words

I follow whatever I see
of myself in sleep


Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 2 November 1663.