t；　Daniel。　The　public　needs　a　serious　young　poet　to　make　them

feel　worthless　and　superficial。　And　now　that　we？ve　got　their　attention；　we？d　sure　as　hell　better

keep　the　momentum　going。　You？re　the　next　Keats；　and　we？re　going　to　make　you　so　famous　so　fast；

you？ll　think　you　were　born　that　way。　Looking　forward　to　it。　Ciao！？

Dan　wobbled　outside　the　door　of　the　chemistry　lab　as　he　listened　to　Rusty　Klein？s　loud；

breathless　message　for　a　second　time。　He？d　heard　of　Rusty　Klein。　She　was　the　agent　who？d

negotiated　the　million…dollar　book　deal　for　the　Scottish　jockey　who？d　claimed　to　be　Prince　Charles？

illegitimate　son。　Dan　had　read　about　it　in　theNew　York　Post　。　He　had　no　idea　what　the　Better　Than

Naked　show　was；　but　it　was　pretty　cool　of　Rusty　to　put　him　on　the　guest　list　for　it　when　they？d

never　even　met。　He　also　loved　being　called　the　next　Keats。　Keats　was　one　of　his　major　influences；

and　if　Rusty　Klein　could　recognizethat　after　reading　only　one　of　his　poems；　he　definitely　wanted

her　to　represent　him。

Tucking　his　phone　back　into　his　bag；　he　pulled　out　his　copy　ofThe　New　Yorker　again。　This　time

he　turned　to　the　Contributors　page；　reading　his　short　bio　before　he　turned　to　his　poem　on　page

forty…two。　He　read　the　poem　from　start　to　finish；　no　longer　ashamed　to　see　his　own　work　in　print。

Rusty　Klein　thought　he　was　good？Rusty　Klein！　So　maybe　it　was　true。　Maybe　hewas　good。　He

looked　up　and　peeked　through　the　little　window　in　the　chemistry　lab　door　at　the　row　of　boys？

heads；　all　lined　up　like　chess　pieces　facing　the　blackboard。　School　suddenly　seemed　so　trivial。　He

was　on　to　phenomenally　bigger　and　infinitely　better　things！

Suddenly　the　lab　door　swung　ope