[In whose hall on the where hill with whom
I went
but my lute changed me — ha!
I shall be chosen to sit in Parliament
like a fool.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 14 February 1659/60.
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 are 1660 and 1661.
[In whose hall on the where hill with whom
I went
but my lute changed me — ha!
I shall be chosen to sit in Parliament
like a fool.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 14 February 1659/60.
[To dinner, my mouth,
to dinner I sell my mouth
(and a little supper),
to dinner, come,
live for the honor
of the open mouth!]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 13 February 1659/60.
[In the morning
he shouted at the fields
(the crooked fellow)
walked up and down
(the churchyard cock)
broke Barebone’s windows
and went home
(my dog-brother)]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 12 February 1659/60.
[In the news,
the countenance of men
changed with joy.
I saw a beast singing
upon the tyrannical lamb.
The fanatic people lack
for nothing: bonfires,
all the bells in all
the churches ringing,
rumps tied upon sticks
and carried up and down.
The butchers rang
a peal with their knives
when they were going
to sacrifice their rump.
It was past imagination—
a street of fire.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 11 February 1659/60. (If you read no other entries from the diary, be sure to click through and read this one!)
[I saw three things belong to us:
shame and home and cancer.
Who can tell what world to order,
chosen according to what qualifications?
Give me a bed.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 10 February 1659/60.
I hear the horses of desire
go right to the surgeon.
Take me home and give
my poor spittle a drinking-house
where I pull down gates and portcullises:
alum to my mouth, plaster to my chin.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 9 February 1659/60.
Practice walking; begin in the yard.
Afterwards, talk to a stone.
Do nothing.
Let a black dog into the kitchen
and eat a great head,
too much to boil.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 8 February 1659/60.
Having business, we left off business
to school a school in praise
and stone a stone.
A letter from a letter
wrote a letter: A
is for arse. All men go bad.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 7 February 1659/60.
[I went to my office, I went to the palace—
a swan to the swan.
I brought a bull to the chamber
and rattled the crown.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 6 February 1659/60.
[“Tell me, stranger,
what love should be called.”
The stranger preached the whole book
then went into court.
A drum came by, beating
a strange manner of beat—
now and then a single stroke.
I wondered at what I saw
but did not speak.]
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 5 February 1659/60.