On part 2 of my “Big City Poetry” series, I examine the intellectual heart valve that is Washington D.C. I pretentious it up with a bit of lame-ambic pentameter (see what I did there?) based on my experience visiting the Capitol city. Big City Poetry: D.C.’s the Brain The August recess makes this public sector hotspot feel oddly ghostlike. This isn’t the real D.C., it’s not alive enough. For an authentic experience you must wait until the leaves change. It’s then you’ll know… When bureaucrats strut through awakened streets with
Read MoreOthers notice it, or recognize the absence of it. That silent “R” that Bostonians leave out when speaking. When you hear it, or don’t, that’s when you know you’ve stepped into the greater Boston area. You’re now in “Boston Strong” territory. I have no problem screaming at the top of my lungs that I was born and raised in California. We’re all from somewhere, and yes, I’m extremely proud to be a California Girl, but there’s something about saying I live in Boston that causes a smile that I didn’t
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