’tis hood season now I’m a good reason

tis hood season now I’m a good reason
striking fear in foundations—
this class session and here’s the lesson:
the quaking is all in your head first,
so cover up now, no telling how what those winds
wild will lead to, gloomy shadows over-casting
thunderous storms, or more hot days full
of wonder and awe and honesty, too—
we stretch our skins by the hour for what other pay,
the satisfactions of a seed planted, fruits of knowledge
to feed the hungry and close-guard the oppressed,
those fearsome plenty who’d never harm a soul,
but nevertheless he eats the respect and demands
its attention, reverence and beauty;
it’s not in the eyes so much as it is the walk,
nor ever the voice so much as it is the talk.

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