I did not write this month’s Darling Files contribution. It was written by a former 8th grader of mine. When I taught metaphor, I would share the poem, “Identity” by Julio Noboa Polanco. The poet considers the beauty and strength and courage in being a weed as opposed to a flower “harnessed to a pot of dirt.” “I’d rather be… View Post

            There are these guys at the Starbucks I go to. I think they’re retired. They’re always wearing sweatpants and don’t look like they’ve showered so I figure they aren’t working. These guys are here every time I am, and it drives me crazy. They take over the coffee shop and they’re so loud talking about sports and politics, women, and… View Post

In graduate school I learned about demons. They are the most awake during the hours of two and three. That’s what the film director told us. “Scott Derrickson wants to scare you,” the man who introduced him said, and he said something too about transcendental darkness. I think that was supposed to be the lesson, but Scott said, “Turn out… View Post

12 Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. 3 Then Mary took about a pint[a] of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped… View Post

I used to take writing classes at The Writer’s Center in Bethesda, Maryland, and here’s an old prompt that I decided to respond to today, so technically this is something new, but also technically it has no place to go, but it was good write, and so on the blog it belongs. PROMPT: We all walk past things everyday. Take… View Post