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noting hobnobbing networks in a withdrawn way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

getting set for what might make up the year's last match

going off to dream about the upcoming year

taking a leaf from the book of the happy one

having a stab at setting up a new screencast

wishing that the home group takes it to the world set

riding out the days with fresh online works like this