I was in the back of a taxi
out in the country with
two gals and an anteater.

The anteater was a he but
now was a she.  It had a
skirt and I caught sight of
its bush.  I scratched behind

its ears.  “It’s real good with that,”
one of the girls said.  She was

Courtney, cousin from Mass.
The other gal, Morgan, sent
me a note, a valentine.  It said,
“I love you, Morgan.”

The taxi was random so I
don’t know how she knew how
to prepare a valentine with my
name on it.

We had been in a different taxi.  With
Justin.  With my dad in a seat
backwards, like in station
wagons of old.


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