I lay in bed one humid eve
When through the window came
A mysterious hooded figure
With neither face nor name.
He tied me to my bedframe,
Shaved my head and ate my food,
Downloaded my shopping preferences
And data about my mood.
He stole my cash and passwords
And he burned all my receipts
Then showed me banner advertisements
For Sprint and flannel sheets.
He listened to my phone calls
And sold recordings to Taiwan.
These unusual torments
Lasted all the way ’til dawn.
He changed my LinkedIn profile
And made me look inept,
Then left a calling card which said
“Read before you click Accept.”
The Daily Travesty 