roaming in eternity

he knows his strength

at least, he fears not

what he lacks

or, what little he has

with a thick skin

of the plains buffalo

he lives beyond a need

to strengthen his ego

or picking feathers for a cap

with an absent need to cover

his head from sun that burns

or cloud pouring  crocodile tears

neither does he need

any paper

online, or offline, to cover

his stinky arse, his poetic farts

wilderness of flourishing failures

a landscape, he much thrives

on, holding tight the horns

of the seasons roaming in eternity!

henry victor            27.10.2018