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There is no labor described as low and unworthy doing
nothing man does to earn genuine living makes one a dog
those who sit on rolling chairs and talk through wise gourds
 are brain- bees who  cheer, nurture and guide worker-bees

Those who scratch the stomach of the earth are honorable beings
As they tickle the stomach and make the soil to smile and
giggle endlessly with painful happiness for the world,
they make humans to laugh with  bountiful harvests and feasts

The scratchers of earth’s stomach with naked phalanges
sustain humans with big stomachs and smooth epidermis
humans who have never dreamed of tickling the soil
the ones who fear earthworms and yell on sight of caterpillars

Rodents kneel and thank scratchers as they snatch and bite
mouthfuls of feeds from the granaries and gardens
locusts roaming skies with empty bellies and sharpened mandibles
descend to scratchers’ Shambas to eat their fill to live

The widow with a basket of tomatoes sitting by the roadside
morning clerks with scrappers in streets and office backyards
those men and women in tortoise shells at the gates of the powerful
do honorable labor for the good of humanity and are nation-builders

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