Now We Are Sixty-Four: IV

STINKER

Stinker―what I call him―is an ID of my own,

And Stinker is the reason why I’m never all alone.

Trolling through the internet, wading through the slime,

Stinker’s who I am when I am wasting people’s time.

Oh, you may think you’re clever, you’re the smartest of the smart

And folks online may love you and may take you to their heart

And moderators moderate and try to play their part―

But they can’t

Stop

Stinker.

Stinker’s always posting, ‘cos he likes to take the piss

And he never stops to worry what his friends will make of this.

Or if his friends might think he’s not got too much on the ball,

But that’s because he really hasn’t any friends at all.

Oh, you might think you’re clever, with your massive store of facts,

Your style is always pleasant, and your tone never detracts,

And moderators love you and they won’t give you the axe―

But they don’t

Faze

Stinker.

Stinker’s brave as Braveheart when you don’t know who he is;

Stinker’s brave as Tories when the suff’ring isn’t his;

Stinker’s brave as Anarchy. His mood is always fine …

Except when people call him out: it’s then you’ll hear him whine.

Oh, you’re all of you so witty, you’re a clever sort of folk,

Though you would never say it, it might even be you’re woke;

Except it seems to both of us you just can’t take a joke―

When it comes

From

Stinker.

Stinker doesn’t care for facts; it’s only how he feels,

That justifies the content of the ranting that he spiels.

So he will make up anything to counter claims by you,

And double down on anger when you say it isn’t true.

Well, you may say I waste your time, that I’m too much to bear;

And you may think you’re not like me, but I say that’s not fair,

‘Cos all of us have secret selves, a Stinker we all share ...

Yes, Stinker is the worst of us, and Stinker’s always there.