One O'Clock Whistle
Against Nature
In the distance, sirens
Jump at this dead hour
Wild-eyed,
I am too much in the sun
Willed beyond my power
A little more than kin, straw sins
In the rainy season
Closed despite the sun
A clarion to call me home
My fingers going numb
Every Monday, run away
I�ll stand in these four corners
Though hell itself should gape
I'll cross it, though it blast me
And walk right through the gate
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