Bruce Weigl Poems

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The Harp

When he was my age and I was already a boy
my father made a machine in the garage.
A wired piece of steel
with many small and beautiful welds

Song Of Napalm

After the storm, after the rain stopped pounding,
We stood in the doorway watching horses
Walk off lazily across the pasture's hill.

Elegy For Peter

That night we drank warm whiskey
in our parked car
beyond woods now lost to the suburbs,
I fell in love with you.

Killing Chickens

Never mind what you think.
The old man did not rush
Recklessly into the coop the last minute.
The chickens hardly stirred

The Last Lie

Some guy in the miserable convoy
Raised up in the back of our open truck
And threw a can of c-rations at a child

My Autumn Leaves

I watch the woods for deer as if I'm armed.
I watch the woods for deer who never come.
I know the hes and shes in autumn

The Black Hose

A boy who knew enough to save for something
like the whim that took me downtown on the bus
one lost Saturday morning of my mother's birthday,

Her Life Runs Like A Red Silk Flag

Because this evening Miss Hoang Yen
sat down with me in the small
tiled room of her family house
I am unable to sleep.


I wanted to stay with my dog
when they did her in
I told the young veterinarian
who wasn't surprised.

Dead Man, Thinking

Snow geese in the light of morning sky,
exactly at the start of spring. I was
looking through the cracks of the blinds at my future which seemed

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