Joe Wenderoth
from Letters to Wendy’s From Further In
April 30—2016
In a dream, I’m trying to sell 300 lb. of frozen shrimp to a Wendy’s Manager. I’m having no success & the boxes of shrimp are thawing on the floor by the counter. This should be easy as peddling double-dildos down at the convent, I say. Manager gently shakes his head, a little angry. No it shouldn’t, he says. Sadly, I awoke before I could ask him why not.
May 11—2016
Dude. On the level of the factual, we’re all drugged animals driven to sniff & suck at the groins of our finely perspiring cohort. Where the drugs are coming from isn’t known & can’t yet be attacked with a SWAT team.
August 25—2016
No truly good person thinks of his buttocks as 2 turtles. That isn’t how it is.
September 19—2016
Do you recall Mr. Peanut? He’s dead now—stomach cancer, I believe, took him from us—but when he was alive he wore a sort of tux. He had a cane, a top hat, white gloves & a monocle. He had a fucking monocle! The thinness of his arms & legs, moreover, took him right to the verge of insect . . . Not a great guy to run into in a dream.
September 20—2016
One head is better than two.
September 27—2016
I don’t like people to smell me without my permission while I’m sleeping. Of course, I usually give permission, no prob . . . but when I say it’s a no go, it’s a no go. Why am I like this? Well, why does the fish climb the tree? Why does the newborn babe drive her little fist into the eye of injustice? Why does the ladder glimmer as it crumbles?
Joe Wenderoth is Coach of the U6 Bumblebees. He lives in The South. He has a black dog and a gray hairless cat.