To Ghost, or Not to Ghost, That is the Question
Perchance to DTR — ay, define the relationship
To ghost, or not to ghost, that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler on Tinder to abruptly ignore,
Or to make false vows of dinner plans
and later cancel those dinner plans. To ghost — to evade,
No more; say, by a change of heart, we date
For two months, perhaps, and the spark of love never visits
That time is wasted: but, at least we consummated
Devoutly, until I ask you to leave before you fall asleep.
To sleep over, perchance to DTR — ay, define the relationship
For in that sentence that shackles what horrors may come,
When we must make our relationship Facebook official,
Must then give me pause before hitting on my sister-in-law at Thanksgiving. That is the calamity of my long life as a bachelor.
For who would even bear the catfishes and uggos of Tinder,
The ladies who deserve to be ghosted by me, a solid 10,
The pangs of undeserv’d women, the ones who don’t match my looks,
The butterfaces of the internet, and the horsefaces.
And thus, the honorable conceit of my question
Is sicklied o’er Twitter trolls with intention to cancel,
And critique my great achievements with the ladies.
With this regard their comments go awry,
As I become the next star of The Bachelor.
