A new Tao Lin "work" is a nice thing, even if it's basically just a disjointed series of partially-finished tweets from his "draft" folder strung together and split up over 11 pages on Western Beef. There's a bunch of mundane life details that will resonate, particularly if you're a New Yorker: taking the Rockaway train to JFK, eavesdropping on other people's orders at the juice bar, being stoned and self-conscious, being stoned inside a subway station on 28th street. Though informal, the language and phrasing is unmistakably Lin; a lot of his fiction sentences feel a little bit like tweets, anyway. Reading it inspired me to look at my own tweet drafts; I thought about posting them here but they're all boring mostly and have a lot of frowning emoticons. Read the full poem, and then check out Emilie Friedlander's interview with the novelist from just before Taipei came out.