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So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya start? Down by Flea Bottom, stinks like a dead hog, but that’s where they lurk. Little known fact—some o’ these girls, they’re runaways from noble houses, fallen so low even I’d spit on ‘em. Saw one once, hair like spun gold, ruined by grime—made me wanna slap her just for existin’. “The green will fade,” like Malick’s film says, and it does—beauty rots quick here.

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Woburn’s little gems pop up everywhere. Like, you gotta check out Concord Rd and Harvard St—yep, those busy slices of life where people hustle and stray. And duh, don’t miss the rapid vibe of Woburn Central Park. It’s small, but full of heart. I sometimes stroll there with my sketchpad and let my thoughts run wild. It sorta reminds me of that mistic "The New World" vibe, where every ray of sun tells a story… “a new world,” you know?

Clark, Markey tell voters in Woburn ‘what they are going to do about’ Trump actions