The Ballad of the Silky Anteater

The Ballad of the Silky Anteater

There once was a furry ball I saw,
That cried to me as I passed,
“Why, oh why am I all alone?”
I didn’t really know, so I guessed:

“They hate you, little tree beast,
‘cuz tree beast you are not,
I’d say you’re more like a hand muff,
and ladies don’t think that’s hot.

You warm their hands, but cool their loins;
You’re slow in body, at most –
Your mind may work like a dynamo,
but an Agouti walks in, and you’re toast.

An Agouti is quick as a flash,
His fur is attractive; slicked down.
You’ll ask her to a movie and ants,
Forget it! They’re already painting the town.

You hang out all day in that tree,
Where’s the excitement? please tell me…”
The anteater interrupted my speech
crawled over, and began to sell me…

“You’re correct, my dear man, you’re correct,
I’m certainly furry, slow, and weak,
But making assumptions, dear sir,
Makes an ass out of you and of me…

The ladies didn’t make me upset,
In fact, I’m a swinger, you see, ” (and he swung)
“My nose is just the right shape,
To please…” He stopped, he could see I was stunned.

“What I’m sad about is quite different,”
He looked around as he said,
“I ate white ants off a strippers back…
…and today, that stripper is dead!”

“It all went down at the club last night,
I was with my anteater crew,
Don’t know how, but the girl’s dead now,
Tell me, sir, what should I do?”

“Oh, I don’t know” I said, backing up,
As I thought the matter through,
Perhaps you can call on some friends I’ve got,
I know a piranha, or two.

“That’s jolly fine!” He shouted with glee.
“You, sir, are quite a fixer!”
Because you’ve solved this problem for me,
“I’ll let you have my sister!”

…and that’s how the following scene came about:


We fixed the issue and then shook hands,
in a finish deserving applause,
my palm has scars to remind me of this,
Silky anteaters do have sharp claws!



I looked at my palm and that’s what reminded me to write down this experience I had when I traveled to Guatemala many moons ago. It was a memorable trip, and though they wouldn’t let me take the Anteater’s sister back into the United States, I did bring back boatloads of little trinkets, a few children and a jumping spider named Gregory that traveled first class in my front pocket. Ah, those were good times…

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1 Response to The Ballad of the Silky Anteater

  1. wormlips says:

    This never happens: I am laughing out loud: a rolling, musical, hearty chortle the likes of which a silky anteater could only dream.

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