it's being looked into

I thought I'd write a poem called A.
I. Shock Art Paranoia Warning

but

in the process of it
something
occurred to me, and I
became frightened, and
it goes a little

something
like
this
see

every square inch of your own skin
(or anyone's): unique : locked-in 

quite capable of being
exposed, indexed 
and 
the data is out there 
we must confess 

if there's any shame in it 
(for sure, there is) 
it's on every one
looking
collect and spread
not
shame on the one 
who simply is 
living her own life 
carefree 

or his

(don't let's kid
ourselves,
please.)

well we all own our own
skin and image as well, in
an ideal world 
would be ours 
to sell, 
or keep, 
cover up 
or let shine, 
let show 

but unfortunately 
it's just datapoints 
in relation, you 
know 

and as soon as one has
a unique key? - And 
we all do, you know, 
it's just who we be -
every pattern that fits
caught captured in bins,
buffers by backdoors
raining streaming from clouds
broken free downpours 
is regathered and proud
adding up stat-same
to astonished extent:
every single given image
collect the whole set 
and more new each 
day. Takes

a couple of 
clicks, given
unique key to apply
it fits. Laid open and out 
across the whole world
wide, decentralized free
distribution on every
side of raw, rough,
free materials. It
gets 
easier each day 
to reach out 'cross the world
and snag every snap, every
stray, each and every new
input in
catches more
in its sway

by established match.
Sole criterion: each
single algorithm fit
to one single individual 
in every way known. Every
time any digital eye caught home
one square inch of skin.
It is fixed, 
even if
unaware

That's a lesson set free
everywhere to apply.  
oh,
grow up
it's

only you.
After all
And me.

Any one.

It's catch as catch can 
game on play ball 
everyone set free by
comparison, validated
and refined, building up 
clearer faster and more
than before

every each match the new
files in: flagged, tagged
and fanned out to alerts, 
updates on whoever anyone
once interested in, to
whoever just wanted
to know. Wow, great.

Who
knows how
many views,
likes, shares await.

All and each unmistakably
true, unique

not by name (no need)

but by exact skin. 

It's specific analytics
building up to a net
that can wash the wide world
and return every hit 
for however many peeps
anyone wants to keep 
seeing what else is new 
this year, month, week, 
day, hour and - snap! 
to an incoming beep 

you
caught

in a moment you thought 
was yours: complete.   
And that is you, or
was. Irrefutably so. But
it should have stayed 
yours. Now it isn't 

though