writing another manas without disruption

nor relying on the assistance of the cliques

preferring apps that focus only on content

focusing on production over approval

knowing that we can only control the former

sticking to nobody's plan except to my own

feeling relieved to find salvation within hell

persisting productivity in this small nook

noting hobnobbing networks in a withdrawn way

writing rhymes again with a more homely wordplay

folding away by living a more uncouth life

calling this midpoint a means for the old keepsakes

thrusting twenty-four-bell clocks on the masses

making all day-marks have a year-month-day layout

reckoning another shift back to the big town

becoming milder after finding stiller paths

crafting a new but still-understood way of speech

shifting away from new strange words from strange backgrounds

having nothing ready for today save for this

wanting a seventh game to happen tomorrow

heaving a set of drawers down the cellar stairs