<DIV><p>“Joe Wenderoth is a brilliant writer, original and subversive, sensitive and strange. I read his work with awe and admiration.”—Ben Marcus</p><p>“Joe Wenderoth's brave new poetic talent is like nothing so much as a live wire writing its own epitaph in sparks. [His poems] throb brilliantly with a sense of the 'too much.' . . . But in Wenderoth's case the too much is the too little or the too ordinary—a very remarkable discovery to have made so late in the history of poetry. Philip Larkin and a few American poets have approached it, but Wenderoth's instrument is sharper than theirs; he makes quick cuts in the meat of the ordinary, which is the meat of the impossible.”—Cal Bedient</p><p>This clear-eyed new work from a favorite young poet is searching and solemn, dissatisfied with artificial condolences and pat maxims. Joe Wenderoth’s determination in the face of harsh realities is what rescues us, and him, from hopelessness.</p><p> <b>“Luck”</b></p><p> <I>So a screaming woke you</I><br> <I>just in time</I><br> <I>An animal’s scream, or animals’.</I><br> <I>What kind of animal it was</I><br> <I>doesn’t matter, and cannot,</I><br> <I>in any case, be determined.</I><br> <I>The point is you are saved.</I><br> <I>Your mouth has been opened.</I></p><p> <b>Joe Wenderoth</b> grew up near Baltimore and is the author of five books of prose and poetry. He teaches at the University of California, Davis.</p></DIV>