I drink a draft of desire.
A gun gives widowhood
and the discourse of revenge:
to meet and dissolve, to issue hurt.
I was glad to hear a sermon
too eloquent for a pulpit—
the talking rain.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 19 February 1659/60.
This is a stunner- such urgency and poignancy. I grow increasingly intrigued by what the dynamic is between first and second author – perhaps a very fluctuating one, depending on how open or already preoccupied your mind is on a particular day.
Thanks. Yes, I guess so. I was just thinking this morning that I should really be working on more continuity between entries, and conceive of the project as a kind of plotless epic…
I love the
‘sermon
too eloquent for the pulpit –
the talking rain’
These are most intriguing
Thanks! So encouraging to know you’re reading along.
(Oops! Should’ve been “a pulpit” — fixed now.)
Like it very much! Last tree rows blow my socks off. Just found you on Twitter, but I am allready your fan…so much pleasure, thank you! / Ylva
Hey, thanks for stopping by.
Would be fun to read a piece about your changing view of these, and maybe how the way you go about it may have changed as well…
Yes, I suppose I should be taking notes on that. Because eventually I will write it up, for sure.