Here’s a poem Jen commissioned from the Marian English students for Valentine’s Day. All scansion and punctuation as is.

To My Valentine, Dan

When we play the insult game,1
sometimes you win, sometimes
I do, but you
will always be my favorite adversary.

If you were a beer, hops would be too flowery
or too bitter. You’re no carb-light Miller 64, watered down
and weak. The snob in you would want to be
an Alaskan Amber.2 And just this once, I’d agree.

Although each year I toss your closet, discarding
what you haven’t work—whether you agree or not—you’re
the one thing I’d never discard.

Well, you & Taco.3

I still marvel at being a Pastor’s wife, on the every other Sunday
I’m reminded I am, sitting
in the pew.

So, Valentine, I’ll order a pint of you,
I’ll keep you, I’ll sing you, I’ll insult
you, with love.4

1. A game in which players attempt to one-up the other with increasingly nasty, vile, and depraved insults until their opponent is left utterly flabbergasted and unable to continue. Often played on road trips on the Ohio Turnpike where there’s no good radio.
2. This detail provided by a colleague’s husband from the last time I was at their house, almost a year ago. Actually, I’d be more of a barleywine or Imperial Stout, but good remembering.
3. What about Bill?!
4. Awww…

In:  Valentine  Schmoop 

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