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Be Our Thursday’s Valentine

The authors wanted to surprise you Valentine.

They got you something Valentine.

They all chipped in.

A bouquet of dirty, cynical, sometimes sappy haiku.

For you, Valentine.

A hot and dirty Valentine’s day haiku:

You are my coffee:

hot, cheap, and I like you best

all over my crotch.

A moderately suggestive Valentine’s day haiku:

Mountains look just like

Giants sleeping and snoring.

Dreaming of beanstalks.

A longing Valentine’s day haiku:

Young girl with hair dye,

Underneath a starbuck’s hat:

You only live once.

A gift, an order, a vagina monologue:

Wrapped in a pink bow,

filled with a tasty cordial.

Eat my heart shaped box.

A haiku encouraging shared-festering-joyful-love-sores:

Wear a red blouse.

Kiss a stranger on the mouth.

Spread V-day disease.

A subtle Valentine’s day haiku:

Windy valentine.

Make my leaves chime with your tongue.

By leaves, I mean cock.

Dear Valentine,

If we washed ashore

on “Fuck, Marry, Kill” Island,

we’d totally fuck.

A Valentine’s day proposal:

Today, let’s smoke pot,

Listen Mumford and Sons,

and fuck in the tub.

I love everything about you, valentine:

You like anyone?

Swear I won’t tell, cross my heart.

Kim? I heard she stuffs.

This Valentine’s day, create a garden for your love:

Since you go downtown,

I cleaned things up a wee bit.


The more adventurous, consider:

For this special day,

I have bleached my ass hole clean.

So you may tongue it.

Remember your sweetie this Valentine’s day:

I only kissed you

because I was blackout drunk.

You smelled like garbage.

Alone? Remember:

V Day is made for

Needy bookworm women and

Sappy high school kids.

The honest truth:

I wrote this poem

so you’d think I’m really sweet.

Not so you’d fuck me.

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