(Dedicated to Elizabeth Bernstein, of the Wall Street Journal.)
I wish all cherubs straight to Hell.
Their arrows for scrap I would sell.
Fondants, nugats, marzipan;
take it to the garbage man.
Cardboard hearts with tinsel bright
should burn to light up this whole night.
Plow the flower beds beneath
the frosty smarmy winter heath.
Close the cafes and thee-aye-ters;
throw Hallmark to allee-gay-ters.
Martyr Valentine anew!
With my heart he'll never screw!
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