just moments ago, a dawning realization
     arose within this sol son begat
from ma late mother
     and octogenarian widower father,
     oh..no nothing cat

tuss strophic, boot merely the revelation,
     how fist bumping dee clocks hour hand ahead
     remembered by dat
dog gone refrain spring ahead, and fall back,

     this unemployed chap doth down play eclat
attests that his quotidian schedule minimally effected
     holed up here in Highland Manor named flat
roomy enough for thyself, the Missus,

     and buzzfeed ding fruit flies
     each approximately the size of a gnat
a minor nuisance, though tolerable
     within this appealing habitat

where minor inconvenience experienced
     by this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania resident
cuz as a recipient of social security disability
     (social anxiety) this psyche didst get rent

which fixed (unearned) income budgeted
     and predominantly costs of living money spent
hence no need to arise bright tailed and bushy eyed,
     a freedom akin to folks camped out in a tent,

which exemption immunizes
     this doodle ling middle aged
     muddle brained chap subject ranting
     early morning drivers,

     who angrily rant and vent  
thus, the tendency, piquancy, and lunacy
     to twitter (for the Yardbirds),
     and keep company with night owls, who went

a hooting for all the world wide web
     to hear, whence dawgs Bach
the exact number of hours, yer oblivious
     to the tight rigorous mortised schedule
     manned by Mister Clock,

essentially foisting on Bread Winners,
     an abstract artificial construct spurring
     madcap commuters to scurry in the rat race,
     lest tardiness could cost

     more than paycheck
     (to ap pier with permanent dock
hue ment aye shun),
     an unwonted blot add hoc
king worry about getting canned -

     i.e. on permanent furlough,
     perhaps forced into a life of crime, yet if caught...
wasting away in a jail cell
     as warden turns the lock

one redeeming factor,
     would offer opportunity to mock
management, and more pertinently
     mandate to rock
and roll to the incessant muted,
     yet devastatingly loud tick tock.