Tuesday, February 14, 2012

A Visit From St. Valentine

Back when I was in college, I took some writing classes.  A lot of writing classes, actually, but I'm sure that's pretty obvious to anyone who reads this blog.  Right?  Right?!

And no, I didn't take any drawing classes.  My artistic abilities are 100% natural and unimpeded by higher education.

Anyway, my first ever writing class was Writing 105.  No one in the class wanted to be a writer; it was an elective and most of us planned to suffer through it while on our way to various science-related degrees.  Not even the professor took the class seriously, which is how I came to write the greatest Valentine's Day poem EVER.

Dr. Writing Professor decided to have a poetry contest for Valentine's Day.  At first I was all like, "OK, whatever, just give us all A's and let us go dissect something in one of our more fascinating classes," but then he said the magic words:  "Whoever writes the best poem wins a...CANDY BAR."  Woot!  As soon as the said "Candy Bar" this lightning bolt of inspiration totally struck my brain and I knew I had the most awesomest poem idea. Walt Whitman's got nothin' on me.

I ran back to my dorm and feverishly wrote for at least 40 to 45 minutes.  The inspiration just flowed right out of me and I knew I was on to something when I was in tears over my own poem.  Now, fifteen(ish) years later, I present to you the most epic piece of poetry you will ever read.

I'm pretty confident about that claim because who actually reads poetry anymore?

A Visit From St. Valentine
by Alli Maidenname (I wasn't Psycho yet, duh)

'Twas the fourteenth of February and all through the world,
Not a female was happy, not one single girl.
The vases were set on the table with care;
In vain hopes that some flowers soon would be there.
The women were dreaming of men who were foxes,
And visions of chocolate in heart-shaped boxes.

And my roommate on the beanbag and I in the chair,
Had just settled down to fix up our hair;
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our seats to see what was the matter.
To the window a girl flew like a flash,
She tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
Her tears fell three stories to the new fallen snow,
Then she hurled herself down to the ground below.

When what to my wondering eyes should fly in,
But a big red cloud and eight tiny cupid men
With a smelly old driver, like turpentine,
And I knew it a moment it must be St. Valentine.
More rapid than eagles his cupids they came,
And he laughed, and he jeered, and he called them by name;
"Now Crusher! now Butthead! now Dorkfish and Cheater!
On Liar! on Scumbag, on Cheeseball and Wife Beater!
To the top of the dorm!" yelled the scraggly old fart,
We'll find every woman and tear out her heart!"
All through the air the ugly cupids did fly --
They seemed to represent every earthly guy.

So up to the dorm roof the cupids they flew,
With a cloud full of doom and St. Valentine too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard with my ears,
St. Valentine laughing at lonely womens' tears.
As I drew from my closet a sound baseball bat,
He leaped into my room like a fat, lazy cat.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his toes,
Attempting to spread his Valentine woes.
A bundle of arrows he had slung over his shoulder.
My roommate fainted and fell like a boulder.
His eyes, how they burned!  His rear end, how hairy!
His cheeks were all hollow, his nose red from sherry.
His tight little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
And the hair on his chin was like that of a steer.
A rotten cigar he held clamped in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled him just like a sheath.
He had a fat face and a big old beer gut
That shook when he laughed like a prostitute's butt.
He was slimy and crude, a right nasty old elf,
And I felt sick when I saw him in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head
Soon caused me to be all filled with dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight for my heart
And soon got a shock that gave him a start.
I laid my 'ball bat upside of his nose
And, pausing for breath, I then smashed his toes.
He sprang to his cloud, to his cupids did cry,
And away they flew, away through the sky.
But I heard him exclaim as he dove out of view,
"Go to hell!"
                    I replied, "St. Val, screw you!"
 So OBVIOUSLY I won that candy bar and OBVIOUSLY I changed my major from Biology to Creative Writing!  I will never forget the look on Doctor Writing Professor's face when I told him I wanted to change my major but I know he was thinking of my award-winning poem and lamenting the fact that I'd wasted an entire year and a half of my college education on the useless world of biology.

I mean, who ever wins a candy bar for dissecting a sheep's eye or extracting DNA from ground beef?  

Have a Happy and Psycho Valentine's Day!!
 

3 comments:

  1. that is hilarious!

    ReplyDelete
  2. A woman who's smart, left science for art,
    the world's so much better, with her writing letter(s) (whaddya want? I'm making this up on the fly)

    Now some guy's so happy, cos you changed his kids' nappy,
    and you've found true love that was divined from above.

    But Alli my dear, there's still monsters to slay,
    We bitter ex-wives have had hell to pay.

    Cos those so-called cupids, those liars and cheaters,
    those dorkfish and assholes and awful wife beaters,

    THey're still running free and though they've grown fat,
    are ruining our lives - so go get you bat!

    Alli, YOU RULE!
    Kathy van Gogh

    ReplyDelete
  3. I lament that by your taxonomy I would probably be classified as "dorkfish."

    ReplyDelete