Better Than a Valentine

Boy, do I hate Valentine's Day. But, when I have a reason to celebrate it, I end up going along, secretly happy to have a reason to celebrate it. This makes me feel like a bad writer.

Still, you won't see me making jewelry face.



Instead, here are some better-than-Valentines that let me make peace with this silly holiday.

I just picked up Michael Czyzniejewski's collection Elephants in Our Bedroom, which you also need to pick up, and soon. He has an amazing way of mixing the ridiculous and magical with the real, with sweet and sad characters. He particularly writes awkward love well. So funny, with a little blood on the floor. Here's his Valentine:

My wife and I are young and haven't been married long, so we don't wait for birthdays, anniversaries, or Valentine's Day to have sex. But we do do it on those days. Valerie doesn't seem affected by her doctor's visits--she preforms with the same vigor, with the same tenderness and love, never straying too much from what we've both come to expect. Close observations on those days has produced no noticeable variation. If anything, Valentine's Day brings out something special, the romance in the air, the extra fuel. Maybe it's those roses and box of chocolates. But maybe--and I know I shouldn't think this--maybe it's the gynecologist. It could be she's had an occasion to think about her body all day, or perhaps she has a thing for her gynie, and each Valentine's Night, she's thinking of him (or her) when we embrace.

I missed out on Luke Bloomfield's The Dufflebag at AWP but snagged a copy from the good folks at Flying Object. Here's a Bloomfield Valentine:

The Affair I Had With Sweden

The affair I had with Sweden
was a sad little thing gone crazy,
like a girl, like a boy
like a voice in the dark asking anyone there?
Everyone cries on the telephone
except Sweden.
Why aren't you crying? I cried
And Sweden would be silent
and patient and
as time passed I began to see
this was its was way of saying
you are not right for me
and it sent me over the edge.
I don't leave the kitchen ever.
All day I hack food into Swedish shapes.
And you know what else I do.

And, okay, no jewelry face, but you'll probably find me" tasting the shit out of this chocolate."