On my anonymity
I do solemnly swear
not to offend anyone
and to steer clear of certain subjects
until I know certain friends
are on holiday and without wifi.
Oh my anonymity
a grainy posed picture
desperately trying
to look intelligent:
Lit from below
text book stuff really.
On this anonymity
I’ve really got it down
when I want to engage
I click so many times to see
who clicked my clicks, I become
the clicks I’m clicking on.
On that anonymity
I rest my worn cheek
on a weary fist
thankful for those eight views
but resentful toward
everything other than eight.
Over anonymity
I’m stopped and my hand shaken.
one day, one day,
talent will out me
from this choking wardrobe
and the curtain that shrouds me.
Book of Pye 