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 are 1660 and 1661.
Up early, in pink light
I see rock and a broken land,
the house sunk where children were born—
one of our villages, but for the language.
The people eat fish
but play at physician, a clapper
to frighten the birds
away from the corn.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 19 May 1660.
I hear the wind speak:
nothing but epitaph,
brass angels crying.
The church, a poor man’s box
that binds any guest
to the dying light
like some great weight.
I go down to the water
with my echo:
to say is to know.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 18 May 1660.
The king is naked and mad,
the queen wagers the whole world
on heaven—a strange country.
I hide in a wagon
with one horse.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 17 May 1660.
Wine while I wait,
scarlet clothes like feathers
in the portmanteau.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 16 May 1660.
A day bright as silver,
the women in black like boats
swimming in the sea.
On shore, I walk like a captain:
I roll, not able to stand.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 15 May 1660.
Two pretty ladies
kiss the two blades with them.
I drop my rapier.
We walk up and down the town.
In every door, the moon.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 14 May 1660.
As tailors cut pieces of cloth into a flag,
I like to give a word exceeding grace,
open it to hurl, war, harp,
take it to the mouth as prayer and flesh.
I am old and very strange with letters.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 13 May 1660.
Boy in the bay, stay
and understand:
letters only attend
the coming of a sail.
Midway, we could see
places very pleasant;
the further we went,
the more we lost sight.
At cards, I come to see
my fruitless precaution,
getting without book
when I can get the book.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 12 May 1660.
Homage to Novica Tadić
A great hen, very angry, began
to pull down the dove and the lark,
a pretty dish.
The mouth dropped thirty guns
in a high debate with the sea.
It blew hard. The great fowl’s
mother was put to bed.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 11 May 1660.
This morning, a whore; this afternoon, music.
I was sick in the evening.
At night, while my lord was at supper, I went
to bed, to bed, to bed.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 10 May 1660.