The day being very pleasant,
I drank like a drunk, very pleasant,
and puzzled about finding out
the meaning of the holes
and merry spigot
in my head.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 30 April 1660.
Walkabout
I put on first my
fine cloth cloak,
put on a pack
locked till Tuesday
that I may read
in the open,
keep a fast and
keep from sitting
as if in chains.
I walked
a great while
upon the deck.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 29 April 1660.
Plenty of Nothing
To play
and gain
and own
no money
exceeding
merry
I sing
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 28 April 1660.
Banking
I put a hat on
for the flock.
They go so high
that others fall,
so high that they
deceive, and I am
so low that I am not
able to escape,
my troubled hopes
made even with
my money.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Friday 27 April 1660.
Soirée
Let the meeting of yes
and never, bear and bottle,
stone and noon
be merry with wine
and wholly underwater,
laughing at a bass.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Thursday 26 April 1660.
The Decider
My character was the commander.
Me? A little man in the fleet afternoon
finishing the alphabet up with W.
How I err to be.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 25 April 1660.
Bibliophile
I had an oyster busy as a rose,
a pleasant room bigger
than a broke-open safe:
a great large book.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 24 April 1660.
Paradoxen
I had in my cabin
that dun cow, paradox:
that the sea was good at ninepins.
That we hear for our instruments—
locks singing to the blacksmith.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Monday 23 April 1660.
Stunt Double
A strange thing, how every day
I am private eye for a statue,
set up in exchange after I fell
to writing, to morrow, to bed.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 22 April 1660.
Oysters
A boy is going to the king.
I enter his name in my book.
How many churches have
a barrel of pickled oysters?
Open the barber’s hands with
his own hands: a close business.
This letter is like a house—
a very well writ one.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 21 April 1660.