Roman

The Siren Mansong

Breathe in the sun
Feel rays, mantas, banners

Strong soup is one bicep
Lifting fifty stone

Short lines indicate
Stoic clarity

A real eagle eye
Does not pretend 
To eat what is
Not there

The military-fallus complex
Is not so complex:
One hard
Against too soft
Scrambled

The security dream
Is a versus night
Stars bleed blood
Enough self to say done
A universe of everyone else

Collide
Deride
Analyze
Parade
And make sure 
The others know
What He knows:
That greatness
Is the only kind of good