Dit gedicht uit augustus 2018 gaat over vijf wilde zwijnen die op voedseltocht gaan “outside forest doors”. Helaas overleeft niet iedereen deze tocht…

Outside Forest Doors

A boar born bored on the forest floor
Forced its four fellow boars from the Northern horde
Into forging a concord to spot the shortest course
For a forage for fodder outside the forest doors

Though in order to fare forth into the foreign shores
The five first measured forces with a roaring horse
The horse gorged a portion of the boring boars
Before the four other boars made its roar abort

Sort of comforted now that the horror’d been banned
The shortened cohort of boars boarded borderland
But the forest corners asked for an enormous plan
When before the poor horde appeared a carnivorous plant

The florets galore being a force to ignore
They ordered a comrade to form the course of the fork
So the least adored boar became the source soon absorbed
And the gorgeous horror flourished as three boars hurried forth

The worn-down horde could neither do nor perform
But without sporting the fodder none did dash to their dorm
So they forced their fires forward through the torturing storms
Meanwhile one got sore as it got scorched by its warmth

They hoarded with the last force stored in their core
But the poor pile they explored was too short for both boars
So they fought it for their organs ‘till both coursed to the floor
At least the boar born bored would not be bored anymore