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Clockwatching

Furtive blank eyes glancing
At gray circle on plaster wall and
Matching wrist-strapped meter
Long hands slowly spinning or
Squared digits counting
Soon they will show five
Or six, whatever
Your release hour then
Rushing home for tonight's dose of
Bright noisy multimedia mediocrity
Program time scribbled on a note
In a secret corner of your suit


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Updated 9/14/02
© Taylor Johnson