Official PROC Valentines Poem 2013

13th Feb 2013

PROC Valentines Poem 2013
John Paul Valentino

This feen from Cork, got a Valentines present he just could not explain.
He had left the old doll plenty hints, cos she was driving him insane,

‘It’s easy for fellas’, she said one night, ‘all ye have to get is flowers,
Whereas for us beours its torture, we’d be all around town for hours’.

‘What’ll I get him? What does he like?’ The tension is always mighty,
I’d be thinking to myself will I bother, sure I’ll just dance around in me nighty.

C’mere, says he, I’ll tell you what I’ll leave a note downstairs on the morning,
So there’s no confusion– don’t go to any trouble now, seriously, I’m warning.

I’ll tell you exactly the thing I want, there’s no hassle in it I swear,
It’s a very simple present, that isn’t any trouble to prepare.

‘Ok’, says she, ‘you have a deal, I promise this gift will be the best,
The last thing I want on St. Val’s Day is to be completely stressed’.

So they left it at that and the big day came, our boy was well excited,
If she follows through on this one he thought, I’ll be ecstatic and delighted.

So when he woke, up he got and he quietly threw on his gear,
He left a rose upon her pillow, he knew it would bring a tear.



And when she’d go downstairs for breakfast, he’d have the whole thing sorted,
Pink balloons and teddy bears and chocolate sweets assorted.

And among the glitz and calories he left his note before he got the bus,
With the simple thing she could do for him, that wouldn’t require a fuss.

As the bus turned down Summer Hill and into Patrick Street,
He looked forward to the return journey, and his special Valentine’s treat.

When he arrived back home that evening, herself was just in from town,
‘Happy Vals Day’, she beams all aglow, ‘you’d better sit yourself down’.

‘Nice one boy’, he says to himself, as she turned on his favourite song,
‘Don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, sure what could possibly go wrong.’

Now, as he looked at her, it seemed to him, she was a little underdressed,
Given the note he wrote that morning and the particular present he had stressed.

But all that said, he admired her clothes, she was definitely his type,
Her hoopy earrings and tracksuit bottoms and their glowing florescent stripes,

Her faded tattoos of ex-boyfriends names and the one of a black Alsatian,
And the little pot belly that was once a barrel, thanks to Operation Transformation,

She produced the present from behind the couch as she slugged a can of beer,
Then coughed a kiss with her smoky breath and handed him his gear.

‘What’s this?’ he thought as he unwrapped the gift and touched a soft compartment,
‘New silky jocks to turn her on I hope, or at least something for the downstairs department’.

It was downstairs alright but for even further down, that this present was intended,
‘Oh that’s the berries love, a pair of socks…but I assume the present hasn’t yet ended…

Is this a sign that you want me now, in nothing but me shoes?
Some fetish you were too shy to tell me of, is that why you’re on the booze?

‘Whatjameen?’ says she, “I read your note, sure t’was there in black and white”.
You said for Vals you wanted “sox”, so I thought it would fill you with delight.

‘Sure where’s the note?’ he says all cranky and to his hand she aims and throws.
He looks at it and sighs aloud, “yeah….I suppose my ‘e’s do look like o’s”.