Wonalancet Gazette

CREAKING comes not only from wagon wheels

wonalancetgazette — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 02:24:46 +0000

Trees, blazing exhibitionists,
whose frenzied dances scream Me,
Look at me!

The immodest wind comes
from the north,
the house creaks.

Hell, I creak,
winter comes
to us all.

In August

wonalancetgazette — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 12:10:38 +0000

In August people love
the time of midnight sun
the houses and people
breathing and laughing
into hours that don’t exist
the rest of the year

but now it rains so much
we celebrate, this sixth
but not consecutive day
of light, and even these,
the holiday visitors,
learn the meaning of
life up north

and they are not unsprung
from city tempi, horns
and heels, but are borne
by quiet, dank, and dark
into summer sleep, easy
and dreamless by the fire.

By the Waters of Babylon

wonalancetgazette — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 16:54:03 +0000

We no-gill creatures
breathe water all day
and at night houses
give up no sighs
of dreams and lovers
but with great shuddering
inhalations fill their great roofs
full their lofts and rafters hacking
windowsills soaking green
ramps and steps alike
all slick all wetness
all sex of course and amnion
all sea creatures who will not climb
to dry land – there is none -
all sliding together
chemical elemental all one thing
pH balanced again and they all
people trees and houses
move to the center
of mass liquidity volume
all become one by the water
by the waters, by the waters.

Rainy July

wonalancetgazette — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 13:35:22 +0000

In between rains we go outside
wrangle with the bittersweet
that tangles and strangles
the whole wet yard and
find a peach tree
with peaches.

Another Tuesday, September 11

wonalancetgazette — Tue, 11 Sep 2007 11:53:47 +0000

The dense fog predicted for Sunday was really solid water. Falling sheets of rain, buckets and sluices of it. Water wicking into the car. Water on the woodpile, water in the garage.

Now there is a great damp stasis, and gloom. You feel the water form into solid droplets on your skin if you venture into the laden air. Dogs droop, and cats cry. Birds sleep, silent. There is muffled cricket song, nothing else.

Some words that begin with W

wonalancetgazette — Mon, 03 Sep 2007 21:52:55 +0000

This version of the Wonalancet Gazette is our neophyte entry into the world of blogs. We are not sure it is an appropriate use of technology, or of time. But we like writing, and we like Wonalancet.

Labor Day

wonalancetgazette — Mon, 03 Sep 2007 16:06:40 +0000

Yesterday, the trees to the east were backlit, black at the bottom, glowing spring green at the top. Smoke rose from the little house next door, as steam rose in the morning air from the shower in the woods on the other side.

Today, the sun rose later. The trees and our day came, together, from black to brilliance. The smoke rises again from the little house, but no one showers in the cool woods. Only the owl sings there today.

On Writing the Gazette

wonalancetgazette — Sat, 01 Sep 2007 12:44:31 +0000

Disseminating the Wonalancet Gazette as a blog has proven to be difficult, maybe impossible. It could be the computer operator, of course. We prefer to think it is a cultural problem: the pace of life in Wonalancet cannot be conveyed electronically. It has to be lived, on foot, outside, in the woods, or snugged up to the fire.