man of steel

shaped by himself

into political necessity

georgian style

millions killed

i don't see its a big deal

russians killing russians

is what its all about

the above is a reply to osip mandelstams poem

We live, deaf to the land beneath us,

Two steps away no one hears our speeches,

All we hear is the Kremlin mountaineer,

The murderer and peasant-slayer,

His fingers are fat as grubs

And the words, final as lead weights, fall from his lips,

His cockroach whiskers leer

And his boot tops gleam.

Around him a rabble of thin-necked leaders

Fawning half-men for him to play with.

They whinny, purr or whine

As he prates and points a finger,

One by one forging his laws, to be flung

Like horseshoes at the head, the eye or the groin.

And every killing is a treat

For the broad-chested Ossete.