Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
Starting January 1, 2013, this is a daily exercise in erasure poetry based on the 17th-century Diary of Samuel Pepys. Why this work? Its language is admirably concrete, with recurring words and turns of phrase shaped by the exigencies of Pepys’ original shorthand. In thought and content it stands at the beginning of the modern era: the first truly confessional piece of literature by a man equally fascinated by religion and science, and whose curiosity encompassed everything from music-making and theater to mathematics, accounting, politics, fashion, and carnal pleasures. And last but not least, the 1899 Wheatley edition is available online in a website that is really a model for how to present literature on the web. It was my desire to read it day by day that led to this project, which I view not as erasure but as discovery—a kind of deep (mis)reading. Pepys was a sexual predator and an architect of British colonialism who personally profited off the slave trade, so any less than an engaged, critical reading of the diary, in this day and age, would be irresponsible. From a secret diary, these are the secret poems hidden even from the author himself.
I began compiling the erasures into free ebooks in 2017. Here are 1664, 1665, 1666, 1667, 1668 and 1669, and from my second attempt, here’s 1660.
[In the morning I drank at the Sun,
at the Swan in Fish Street,
at our Goal Feast,
at our Jole of Ling,
and after a good cup of ale I shot a scholar.
I drank at the burial of a young bookseller,
drank to his going.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 20 January 1659/60.
[For kindness I stumble
and tell not heart but harp,
give the country of my mind
some night notes.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 19 January 1659/60.
[Letters from his son, but his son did not come.
Merry was he drinking wine with the key
to her lodging and my lodgings.
What answer to give to a monk
saying be, saying be for?]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 18 January 1659/60.
[The child killed his melancholy out of doors.
I heard voices that told me likewise to turn,
told me to talk with a knave,
told me to give.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 17 January 1659/60.
[I went to Twickenham to sit
I went to Twickenham to think
alone in a closet
I played on my flageolet
till the bell-man came by with his bell
and left my wife and the maid a-washing still.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 16 January 1659/60.
[Having been a dog
I sleep in Greek,
say I believe in
supper, not work.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 15 January 1659/60.
~OR~
[Nothing
going to dinner to hear news to his house to my house to the coffee house
going on.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 14 January 1659/60. Two weeks in, I thought I’d see what this would look like if I used the eraser tool in Photoshop instead of the highlighting tool in Word. I like it better, but it’s more time-consuming to generate, so I might end up sticking with the “blacklighting.”
[the swan how high
how much the sword
a cunning swine played cards
where I went to hunt]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 13 January 1659/60
[I drink with a seaman,
a half moon and a barber,
play harp for a bit of meat
and send broke thoughts.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 12 January 1659/60
[Being captain, I leave late,
and—a game grown great and very tame—
with a pair of snuffers and a pair of shears
I see the small pox home.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 11 January 1659/60