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How Peaceful this Morning to Drive a Desk
How peaceful this morning to drive a desk
The culturally-despised desk, that cliché
The flat surface littered with papers and screens
And a telephone with buttons that light up
How lovely - fluorescents flickering over files
And not a yellow sun over shimmering muck
Lines for gas and water, rot and decay
And cast-off couches reeking in the heat
How peaceful - the ordinary all about -
Even though the men’s room is all wrecked out
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