Paul Wiegel


aul Wiegel is originally from Green Bay but now lives and writes from his home near the Fox River in Berlin. He has been writing and performing on-demand poems as a “street poet” on his 1957 Smith Corona manual typewriter for passersby at art galleries, farmers' markets, and festivals for the past five years. This street poetry has led to varied and interesting creative poetry requests including doughnuts, microbrewed beer, and women’s flat track roller derby. Another more serious path has led to a collaborative venture with artist Lauren Paradise ( involving a paintings and poetry which was shown at the Riverwalk Gallery in Fond du Lac in March 2016. Paul's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Hermeneutic Chaos Journal, The English Journal, Yellow Chair Review, and Eunoia Review.

Winner of the John Gahagen Poetry Prize, 2014 & 2015
First place in the Lakefly Writers Conference Poetry Contest


Waiting At The Restaurant

You can shield yourself from
the light or bright presence of others,
and while you wait, you discover the piety
of the table, still weighted by the movement of
the table cloth from when the waiter tossed it,
threw it forward and it bloomed open recklessly
like a fisherman’s net, before settling
and sinking down. This is everything we know
of slowly marked time. This lingering float.
These are the slowly moving shadows
over your shoulder
or the filling of nets or glasses of wine.
In that amazingly slow interval, you can
listen to the cathedral bell ring of clinking silverware.
It’s what we all wait for: To be full.
To be unburdened from the delay of
each separate hunger
and to push to the past what might never come.