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
