Anonymous | Two Poems


Guess where we are? she asked,
calling me from Dawson,
hauling ass down the Alcan,
beating me at my vagabond game.

Don’t you hate cabin fever? she asked,
said she found herself for a minute.
We’ll call you from Washington.



Headstrong, I pushed out
the definition of my walls.

The stories sat atop each other like
bricks, lighting out for new territory.

I painted myself free.



From the ancient Sumerian Debate Between Bird and Fish, to the modern-day hacktivist group, anonymous authorship has had a long history in societies around the world.