Recently, the age-old question occurred to me: What is love (ah-ah-ah-uv-uv-uv) anyway?
Well, it's not that song, or any other for that matter. But we will lie, cheat, steal, kill and die for it - among other things. So I went in search of the
expert on the matter, Ole’ Cupid himself.
My quest began on The Love Day
To find the guy (or girl) who knew
What the Love Thing was all about
Defined by one in a pink tutu
St Valentine was the name
Easy to find I thought
Yet no Saints in the phone book
Nor even a PO box
Hanging up from the post office
One last thought came to mind
Was his address on the internet?
Well, I Googled him online
The results were astounding
One million and eighty-three
I swallowed hard realizing
The challenge now before me
I developed a good strategy
Address and phone would suffice
I discarded the cards and holiday lore
And all the conflicting advice
I filtered down to 37 entries
Of men and women who came
From families who happen to have
The revered Love Master's name
Some were local, some were not
But I had to try them all
I'd save the locals for later
And I began to make the calls
Things went south very quickly
It was a strange situation
I got laughed at, hung up on
And one menacing invitation
The phone calls came up empty
But I still had some hope
Time to head out on foot
And talk to the local folk
Yet with each door I knocked on
My hopes began to dim
The house might have the name
But there was NO Love within
There were other emotions
Jealousy, anger and hate
When love knocked on these doors
It was hopelessly late
Some forlorn even asked me
If I were to find the guy
“Please ask that tutu’d twit
To bring his quiver by”
You may think that I am wrong
But I came to earn my belief
Through slammed doors and threats
And shredded pants from dogs' teeth
I returned home having failed
On this foolish quest of mine
Then I realized what love meant
As I looked into your eyes
No one can tell you what love is
What you think is no mistake
The truth comes from inside you
Love grows from what you make
So Cupid, you can stick it
I mean of course your arrow
Find some needy, loveless types
And stick them down to the marrow
Submitted: February 10, 2023
© Copyright 2025 JL Wolf. All rights reserved.
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