Google want to know when I masturbate,
how frequently
how indecently
and even at what rate.
What I eat and what I buy,
extroverted,
perverted,
or merely shy
What I wear and where I've been,
my vocation,
or location,
their insistence is obscene.
Are we statistics
for an online quick fix?
Can we deny
the need to be freed,
with shaking fist,
from supplying details for mailing lists?
Wrists tired and tied,
from emails missed,
I'm a trifle pissed
having to delete greetings,
and special deals for cut price meals,
and meetings,
with princes and kings from African states
insisting
on listing
the reasons for the gold being late.
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