Issue 155

Winter & Spring 2019

Image from New Arctic

Poetry Bruce Weigl Poetry Bruce Weigl

Lost in Beijing

I want to sail away on the stone boat of No Name Lake with you, away from the noise of the city beating like a heart beats against your ribs. I want to disappear into the beauty because there is nothing else to do in the face of beauty, clear like the lakes inside stars, while the wild grass strikes no deep roots, offers no beautiful flowers or leaves, yet drinks in the dew, and imbibes the flesh of the dead.

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Poetry Bruce Weigl Poetry Bruce Weigl

Wade Park V.A.

Rain slices through me as if I was the grassy field. No matter how many times you turn the key, the lock will not open. The birth of someone’s hair piled high this morning on her head, which she did with her only remaining arm and hand. VA hospital, Wade Park.

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