[OC] re-zlyx-ation

I work on it, work on it -
My body's got myofascial glass,
have to break it open like a glowstick.

It's gross the bodily fluid storage;
I want to fast-forward it.
The apartment is made for someone
a foot or so shorter;
repetitive strain, unergonomic.

By complaining with poems about it over & over
Maybe the amalgamation of verse will
motivate some vergence.

Like a table outside for online orders
& less bending over -
Some day we may afford it -
Though I rather wish to obsolete
all the required grating labor, it's within reach.