Blaine Corkum

Seven O’Clock

What do you do with seven o’clock?
Do you sink it back into the pitch darkness of sleep,
Through torrents of a warm wonderland
Where it unfolds into a miniature saga
Of ridiculous passions and frivolous fears?

What do you do with seven o’clock?
Do you drag it up into the squinting brightness of day,
Through corridors of toe stubbers
Where it callously blinds you by frightening
Colors of clothing and a very large mirror?

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