I think these newsroom clocks are just for show

The year’s first working day discovers you
Once more under these fluorescent lights
Considering and counting false and true
Collating and curating days and nights
And tuning past too-quiet scanner sounds
For lures of action doled out by dispatch
To reporters upon appointed rounds
Fishing for briefs and releases to catch
Pursued by dutiful photographers
And editors assembling story lists
Into order and focus out of blurs
In hopes of capturing what others missed.
I think these newsroom clocks are just for show,
symbols of all there’ll ne’er be time to know.