Oh My Loyal Reader

Oh my loyal reader, oh for the key
To unlock your secret identity.
How is't possible for you to both be
Within Westfield Mass at three-thirty three
And in a bar in Williamsburg Brooklyn?
I know the back of your head, and your dad
But this you is presumptuous, a sin
'gainst empiricism, another mad
Desperate symptom of the longing disease
That torments me by day, haunts me at night
Clutches my soul in an Antarctic freeze
Unable to move for this desperate plight
Yet terrified of the tropical thaw
That could melt away mind and heart and all.