July 21, 2025

You try to tiptoe through your days

As if it's Nineteen Seventy-Eight,

Thinking you've kept your secrets

Confidentially to your grave.

But your Fitbit's tracking your steps,

Days detailed on Google Dashboard,

And that Kiss-Cam aimed on the crowd

Refuses to just be ignored.

Everything in your life's a screen:

Big, small, high-res, def, or cracked.

Your life story is on display

For all to be able to track.

With a ping, a signal's recorded,

Tower of Babel living hell.

Loyalty card's, permanent receipt

Of all your memoir wouldn't tell.

Everything in your life's a screen,

Your never-ending body scan.

You think you are just passing through,

But your data's in others' hands.