They wander about,
young people, intellectuals. Walking down streets with their heads umbrellaing iPhones and pumpkin spice lattes. Making up words, yelling “Yassssss” from the tip-tops of their lungs. The same artists and educators who scored above average on their SAT’s. They fold themselves into corners of side streets. Noses to desktops. Whiskey to their whistles. They find the things that Keep them motivated. Their fire-starters. Passion sparkers. And they leave their mark. Fresh. Raw. Permanent and unforgiving on the universe around them.
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Tennessee Martin
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