the art of looking inconspicuous *in Starbucks* if and i do mean if you wanted to **be** a writer, but you weren't quite smart enough, what would you do? you'd haft to *get smarter,* right? so you'd probly wanna *quit wasting time,* get over the fake/real divide, and start typing a bunch of shit‚— (brute force that thing, baby, it'll take it, and it'll *like* it!) and figure out what "smarter" even means. one line leads to another one stupid cheezy line to another you can idly rock on the waves or you can power up the Mercury; either way, you're going to need a sunswept laid-back troublemakin friend to help you hold er steady. it can start or stop anywhere— no, not "life"—that would be too cheezy— i mean the little boat, the one with the outboard you manned with your left arm while he crouched up front bemused, dry, southern, rhythmic, beautiful. it can start or stop anywhere because (2016)