Mario Weddell

It’s tough to dump someone.

I’m saying goodbye now, but I haven’t run out of things to say.

During the month of April, readers and writers have the opportunity to make their love for poetry a public affair.

My grandfather died of cancer this weekend in Arizona. I didn’t grow up around him; I didn’t even meet him until I was seven. This may seem strange, but my own father was adopted and didn’t learn of his biological father until 1997.

I got a paper cut in my eye in the first grade. That means a piece of paper wounded me by creating a small incision in my eyeball, when I was six. I repeated my statement to assure you that I am fully aware of how serious a claim this is.

a hint of warmth from a winter flame, this ember gasps with pulsing light.

If you’re confident, you can get away with a lot. That’s especially true in New York. This city respects people who know what they’re doing, even if they’re just pretending.

I guess with all the time I spend Looking past your eyes and that I really should just vocalize Whatever’s on my mind

When I met my first girlfriend, I was four years old. I use the word “met” because I really had nothing to do with us becoming a couple. She claimed me on the first day of preschool; I was just an innocent bystander.

“Here’s an idea! How’s about we charge them money for spending money, unless they have a lot of money? You know, so if they can afford to pay the excess fees, we won’t make them pay the fees. But if they don’t have a lot of money, and they just spent the little money they had, they should have to give us some more money. It’ll be funny.”