making sandwiches for the PCH team

in order to collect

my 4.5

million dollars from

the Publishers Clearinghouse

prize package,

my Jamaican friend,

Mr. Lexus,

instructs me to put ten thousand

dollars in cash

in a box,

and send it to his mule

in New York.

i have to put the bills between

pages in a magazine,

and double wrap

the box to protect it from

being x-rayed. plus bubble wrap.

it makes sense.

paying the taxes early is how

it's done with the PCH,

Mr. Lexus tells me.

i also need a receipt so that he

can track the package

as it makes its way to NYC

he promises to deliver my winning

prize money

and the Mercedes Benz,

early next week after

the box of money arrives.

i tell him that i can't wait

to meet him, finally after

talking to him for three weeks.

boring him with stories about

the bunions on my feet

and the trouble with blue jays

in the bird feeder bullying

all the little birds.

i tell him i'm going to make

sandwiches, for him

and his team when they arrive,

and a jug

of strawberry Kool-Aid.

i narrow it down to

egg salad, tuna fish and ham

on rye with cheese.

thank you, he says.

i love you Emily.

the feeling is mutual, i tell him,

as i dial up the FBI.