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                   I met Minerva just now near her tree 
                   Resting from battle 
                   Her helmet on her knee 
                   Hair tumbled on breasts 
                   Parted by brass, surrounded by steel plate 
                   Dark nipples glistened 
                   With dew-like sweat of war 
                   Pale arms quivering 
                   Eager for battle's harsh life-death embrace 
                   Yes! She said to me. 
                   Hell yes! she said.  Get laid! 
                   Enter the battle. 
                   My Virgins serve me well, my son!  Get laid! 
                   Let your juices flow! 
                   (She spit an olive pit) 
                   Get in there and fight! 
                   She gathered her pale skirts around her hips 
                   Stood, covering strong thighs 
                   Took her shield, sword, helmet 
                   With war shriek was gone 


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