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The Can't-get-busy Tales: V-Day at Yale
The World According to Carp
By Benjamin Carp
oilà! This week when Benjamin opines,
Be not averse to verse on Valentines.
My pentametric couplets (iambs too)
Will make my points, and they'll just have to do.
"For years," you say, "I've searched Elihu's trough,
But so far found no diamonds in the rough.
True love--is it a pipe dream in New Haven?"
"Nevermore," I answer (quoth the raven).
Yes, you're right to say the scene is bad;
The Prom's the last date some of us have had.
We Elis come in four distinctive types:
Apocalyptic horsemen, each with gripes.
(All four are male--forgive me, I insist--
Since gender-neutral pronouns don't exist).
nd first is fasting Famine, famished still--
By choice, by circumstance, or lack of skill,
He spends each weekend dateless, like a priest.
He sucks forlornly at his can of Beast.
The sin of Onan's his most carnal vice;
He self-inflicts it daily, sometimes twice.
Could he but freely sow his wild oats,
He'd throw away that sock on which he dotes.
et's stop for Death, who sows and reaps as well;
The dating game, for him, is grisly hell.
At Atticus, things seem to go his way,
Her voice mail says, "Again, another day?"
But then he waits, and never gets the call;
His face, becoming grimmer, bears a pall.
Alas, his former friendship fades and dies--
When next they meet, they both avert their eyes.
vade ye Pestilence wherever found;
The notches on his bedpost do abound.
The thrill of these adventures, though, has waned;
His countless fleeting flings left him profaned.
Methinks that Moby's been so long at sea,
There's barnacles where genitals should be!
This organ grinder's wound it up too often;
Syphilis (or worse) will nail his coffin.
ext is War, and battles don't ensue,
Until a single boy and girl are two.
He says, "The 14th, what's the deal with this?
Most days it's no big deal to get a kiss,
But suddenly twelve roses are required,
Else she says, `I'm plainly not desired.'
Hallmark czars accursedly impressed
Upon these girls how love must be expressed.
By now, my dear, you must know how I feel!"
"Listen, you cheap bastard, here's the deal:
Flowers ain't a burdensome request--
A token of your love it does attest.
If Hallmark didn't strongarm you this way,
You'd try to get free nookie every day!
If you think sweet romance is such a crime,
You're welcome to your fingers any time."
hese anecdotes, amusing though they be,
Don't answer Yalies' questions (namely three):
"Most people in my college make me nauseous;
Can I catch a cutie if I'm cautious?"
Two: "Is dating blissful, or a curse?"
"Are singles better off, or is that worse?"
'll answer in reverse, 'cause I'm a pill--
We'll see if couplehood's a social ill.
The single life's a blesséd place to be,
Your time and cash your own, your soul is free.
But spending time with someone's also nice,
For comfort, cuddles, caring and advice.
A cheeseball I may be, but hear me out:
Is work your bride to be? I rather doubt.
ow that's my manifesto fav'ring mates--
Let's ponder next the relevance of dates.
"Why date and buy a girl a steaming cup,
When most drink punch instead and then hook up?"
I think that many fear what dates imply:
"Commitment? Second dates? I'd rather die!"
This college wouldn't have to be a brothel,
If you realized coffee's not betrothal.
Try to find a middle ground instead;
You needn't jump immediately to bed!
I do respect the good old-fashioned way:
A kiss goodnight and call the second day.
gad, I see why pickiness might vex
(I don't believe in paper bags with sex),
But though we won't win beauty contests soon,
There are still those at Yale to make one swoon.
Don't only focus on the bottom tier,
There's pearls among the swine, yes, even here.
Perhaps I'm wrong; my optimism stems
From luck I stumbled on beside the Thames.
But if you view this day with cynic's eye,
Then I'll leave you with this, and be that guy:
"There's Love at Yale for one and all to find,
If Love is cruel, or short, or merely blind."
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