[Martin Elster]

That's great, Ralph. I love it!

[RCL]

Thanks Martin, for the dog treat!

The Vanity of Valentines

With a crayon he carefully crafted hearts
and rhymes, but Rose refused his dinky cards.

His card with perfect Palmer Method strokes
evoked a tiny smile and big No thanks!

In flowing cursive lines at St. Jude’s High,
he wondered why she broke their date that day.

At Yale, his digitized ditties of lovers’ fables—
sweet tweets—made Rose call him predictable.

He turned to sonnets for their subtle nuance,
as grails and verbal icons of romance.

His Skyped recital of chivalric myths
won him Rose for twelve long brutal months.

A shrink now tweets him jokey Valentines.
His muse mocks him in fourteen cruel lines.

[balogna]

My Feelings Stayed the Same
----------------------------

Girl, you don't love me anymore.
once you soared, but now you're bored.
Well, you're gonna get the blame
'cause my feelings stayed the same.

Bitch, you really make me mad.
You have no right to be sad
'cause I treated you real well
but you ditched me like I smell.

Why d'your father call the cops
when I smacked you in the chops.
Girl, I had to make you pay
when you dissed me yesterday.

I can't see you anymore
cause your father barred the door.
I can't take you to the prom.
Don't he ever hit your mom?

You are just a rotten flirt,
and my feelings have been hurt.
Well, you're gonna get the blame
'cause my feelings stayed the same.

[balogna]

The Lady's Reply
-----------------

You write again to waste my time
a letter filled with sticky rhyme.
Hyperbole and outright lies
describe my cheeks, my lips, my eyes.

"She walks in beauty like a dream,
her eyes like pools, her skin like cream."
I say it's more like cottage cheese
with eye-bones filled with moldy peas.

You say that love's all you require;
'tis carnal favors you desire.
Your syrup does not pass my test,
so go away, persistent pest.

[balogna]

A Half-wit's Sonnet for February Fourteenth
------------------------------------------

Oh, valentine, when did you turn a lace
bedraggled heart, a paper sentiment
of simpered verse? A dollar fifty-nine
will buy your empty Hallmark couplets set
in tawdry hearts of cardboard chocolate reds
and dime-store lipstick pinks. What fool would toss
such bottles on the breakers of romance?