A Faculty 

The fellow, doubtful of Mao's decree,

Quotes scripture oft, with fervent glee.

A Christian sage, with Taoist grace,

His colleagues find his ways embrace.

In Neuron’s pages, his name is found,

His office, like an epinaos, renowned.

With axon studies, his work defined,

Yet wise men claim his lab confined.

His pace, akin to snail's slow crawl,

Whispers hint he’ll transfer to Laos’ call.

He speaks of needing just a pillow,

Where peace reigns, devoid of chaos’ billow.