to work in my old
red truck,
Jake,
my worker bee would yell
out the window
at women
walking by,
or at the bus stop.
young or old,
it didn't matter.
i had to use the child lock
so that he
couldn't roll
it down anymore.
Jake, please, i'd tell him,
as he yelled
at a pregnant woman
on the corner,
in her second trimester,
telling her,
hey, i know what you've
been doing.
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