Ill with pleasure ill took,
ill at the Salutation Tavern,
I drank till overcome,
and so see a unicorn
of the king’s hunt
hung in church
again.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 5 March 1659/60.
Before Orpheus
Before Orpheus
that moth
and the mess he caused
a citizen of pretense
to my mother and talk
I was born.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 4 March 1659/60.
Eclipsed
The Lord, a lamb;
the sun, nothing—
a sheep’s head
with a war bark,
a public hatch,
sad money,
or a hand with
a high fever.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 3 March 1659/60.
Wind
Lo, the trumpeters give a sound
of the rump this morning,
a wind to the leg where a carp
is put into good posture.
My art is talk—
and after talk, the bed.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 2 March 1659/60.
Mindless
Thinking out of the box,
my mind left.
Little to do but school a school in being,
a man buried in being.
Brain or pot? Water or wine?
Other things make a kind bed.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 1 March 1659/60.
Anchorite
How at sea he is, that monk!
Join with him and dine on herring,
chant and turn out to row
in a brave cup.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 29 February 1659/60.
Old Harry
Red herrings to breakfast:
boot-heel hole as big as a horse
through the forest, one path
as if through a red regiment.
Old Harry went out to buy a hat
and met the Greyhound,
where I found him vexed
about breaking the Lord’s lock.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 28 February 1659/60.
Four Horsemen
Four horses in the cellar, four evangelists
in a hospital for poor people
and over the chimney a bird, an iron owl.
I drank to the Virgin
and kissed a plain bold maid.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 27 February 1659/60.
Mr. P.’s poetry
I walk in fields broad and common,
journey one inch,
stand in church till dark.
Then wine, two bottles; a rose and no wit.
Let my pitiful verses get a laugh.
My folly has friends, I note.
I play the fool.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 26 February 1659/60.
Mr. P.’s Zen
I sat za zen,
we sat zen za,
we drank many healths
to Mr. Zan.
There was nothing at all left
of this day’s work.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 25 February 1659/60.