At my desk

While a bunch of baboons,
quarter-consciously,
engage in homosexual buffoonery

Black gets greened
Beauty gets breathed in,
breathed out
Patterns of the mind of god
get pinned down and
put to use
And the power,
that captivates, inebriates
the quarter-conscious quasi-humans,
gets entrapped
(only a fraction of it,
 but daily)

Each day,
at my desk,
I become stronger, wily,
contemptuous.