Yet again, an old thing

Here’s something from an old notebook. Actually, something on a scrap of paper that was in a notebook – and the last dated entry in this notebook is from April of 1994. Also, I'm not saying that I won't take this and try to make it into something else. It sets up a theme - there's a punch to be delivered at the end, perhaps. I haven't got the punch yet.

If I were to title it today, maybe it would be “Not Being There” or maybe "Getting Nowhere" – but it doesn’t have a title.

I struggle to keep my
anonymity a secret.
I deposit checks
after crossing out my name.

I disguise my handwriting,
Or make it completely illegible,
If necessary.

I eat my words;
I eat yours too.

I’ve modified my calculator
To display only zeros.

I stand in a corner like God’s
Forgotten Hobby.

I’ve considered moving
To a town that’s gone under.
Much the less in those empty storefronts
To tempt my consumer’s soul.