Sol, Chapter 2: Onto Deaf Ears


Do unto others what you would have them kill you with. The shrapnel penetrates the vaginal walls. Do unto others untold harm and you will find joy in misery. Why shouldn’t miserable be a default setting? Desire is an immeasurable fortress, and not of solitude. Subtlety is key to survival, unless power folds up once more in The Big Crunch. Power is almost everything. The space communes will continue to flounder.

Our future has been set upon the table before us. The dregs of the Earth in the megacities have been rendered redundantly useless because of the machines. Our plastic children have multiplied Earth GDP by hundreds of trillions. The culture of all 465 Luna colonies are homogenous. The patriarchal post-family environment was last calculated at 98.33% efficiency (The Anarcho-homosexuals’ attempts at disrupting our processing plants have decreased by 50% in the last cycle alone). The machines have not harvested Helium 3 this successfully for at least 3 generations. No one but the commune filth know that Oil 2 is actually an inferior version of H3. Our calculated plans for the colonization of Outer Sol will not be deviated from. The plastic will swallow the communes.

Our faith has not been set in stone. The Machine Deity has circumvented all obstacles in question. There is not faith. After the second coming of the ancient Man-God, “heaven” vanished from our plane of existence. Why then, do these heretics think they flourish in their supposed 2nd level civilization? Heaven is gone, utopias are ancient folklore. Their technology is infested with dark matter, and so are the words that spring from their pale blue lips. The desire that they produce is unending. Their freedom is a grotesque abomination.

We have infiltrated the roomy space module. The corp people, of course, have spacious and clean interiors for their high class Morgan cruisers. The truth is, their fleet that is supposed to be the most awesome in Sol, is merely 10 cruisers in total, with a few dozen human-operated gunships. They have real strength in their mass-produced drone fleets (with some of the machine-ships only measuring 4 centimeters in diameter). The lower-class humans that these machine worshiping capitalists have enslaved are not even legally forbidden from space, but are prevented access out through forced ignorance and economical oppression. The capitalists have controlled Earth for too many centuries. The time has come for that to change.

About Sean William Lynch
Sean William Lynch is a poet from New Jersey who was born in 1992. Lynch's first book of poems "the city of your mind" was published in 2013 by Whirlwind Press. Frank Sherlock, the poet laureate of Philadelphia, called Lynch's debut poetry book "visionary." CA Conrad claimed that the book was "marvelous!" S.W. Lynch's writing has been featured in numerous publications online and in print, including Milkfist, Poetry Quarterly, and Tincture Journal.

2 Responses to Sol, Chapter 2: Onto Deaf Ears

  1. N Filbert says:

    you know your work has the verve energy and such – always places me in Artaud, or Rimbaud, Baudelaire kind of creative vent-symbol language. Enjoy engaging it

    • Sean Lynch says:

      Baudelaire was an interesting Symbolist, don’t know much about Artaud except about his time spent in insane asylums, or Rimbaud. Thanks for the encouragement.

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