Where do lurkers go to die?
When they’re done scanning surreptitiously,
Flitting behind translucent screens,
Consuming voicelessly the offerings of another,
Nodding in mute agreement,
Dissenting distantly,
They scuttle back into the black hole
From whence they came.
…
Rise and shine the next morning,
Train those eyeglasses again,
Voyeurism can’t be bad if we’re all snoops (right?)
And saying hello might just kill us.
So this army of lipzipped bystanders
Scuttles back into the black hole
From whence it came,
Shut the lid for good measure,
There, now we’re follow-proof!
…
Maybe that’s where lurkers go
to die.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Vox populi