That’s a man who knows how much a baseball means.

The dirt in the grooves all caked in like tiny mesas

on white plains. An old man who caught a foul ball

now feeling it between his fingers thinking about men

on the field with bodies stronger and faster than most 

of the world. The same ball that touched the very ground 

not ten seconds before and held by a millionaire. 

That’s a man who knows how much a baseball means. 

The great American past time now decried as a dying sport 

just like the failing empire destined to fall. 

To watch baseball is to watch America’s demise. 

No time. Just space. And dirt destroying everything.


June Poetry Reading



Readers Magnet Scam

I don’t normally post anything like this, but I want to make more writers aware of this Readers Magnet scam that I just encountered and figured out with a little bit of intuition and easy, quick research.

I just received a phone call from a person named Angelo who said they worked for a company called Readers Magnet. There was a lot of noise in the background which sounded like a large telemarketing office with phones going off and chitter chatter. Angelo asked if I was Sean Lynch and complimented me on my latest published book then proceeded to offer some sort of marketing deal for my up and coming literary career. He was very complimentary of my latest book, which he said was entitled, “Little Bird” and I stopped him and said I don’t have any book by that name, my latest book is called 100 Haiku. He said that their book scout must have mixed my book’s title up with someone else’s and said they were still interested in doing a deal.

He said your book is called “H-I-G-H-Q?” I said no, Haiku as in Haiku. He said, oh, you mean I.Q.? I said no. The guy had a thick accent so I was patient with him, just to play along and see where it went. Things went sour when I asked, “how did you get this phone number?” He said that their book scouts have many resources. I asked him multiple times how they acquired my phone number, which made him uncomfortable and threw him off of the questioning template. I was polite the whole time, though.

I played along for a bit to see what they were getting at, then I told him I’m not interested. He said that they were going to do more research on my book and then contact me again to make a deal. I hung up, then googled Readers Magnet and the first thing to pop up was Readers Magnet scam and the second was the Readers Magnet website saying this is not a scam! Hilarious.

I read the website for Readers Magnet and it reads like it was written by a copywriter getting paid mere pennies for writing a web page. They said that the people who claim that Readers Magnet is a scam are “libelous.” Apparently they offer to represent authors at book fairs but require the author to pay a $600 registration fee. What a dumb scam. I’m just annoyed wondering at how they got my phone number.

Most scams are just generic car warranty things that everyone gets, but this is annoyingly specific. I’ve read dozens of stories from people who described the same scam and a few from some unfortunate, eager souls who just want to break out in their literary careers and were duped by this company. Please don’t be that person. You have to grind it out the hard way in order to make it in the literary world.

readermagnet scam
The logo for the scam company

Call to Action

Freedom derives from the Lord’s eyes, but leaves

a bloody trail in his wake. For forests burn

and plastic congests oceans suffocating

Earth. This is the greatest violence ever

seen by man. The destruction of our home-

the only home we humans have ever known.

Hunger, thirst, pollution, extinction, death

all the symptoms stem from the same bane-

a golden bull in New York drenched in black sludge.

Billionaires slyly desire escape to space

as a solution, but there’s only one road

to salvation, and it lies on the ground.

It is easy to say but hard to do:

erect a guillotine to bloody each crown.


Statement on a Birthplace

Born on farmland

but furthest from a farmer.

Born by a humble woman bearing twins

in a hospital since demolished.

Born in a town no one knows the meaning

of, a town by the name of Voorhees.

Sounds Scandinavian

makes sense

since the Swedes

were the first Europeans to colonize

where I was raised.

Western New Jersey

in West Jersey Hospital

a now archaic demonym

West Jersyian, a term once used

to denote Quaker lands

along the dark Delaware River

where Norsemen killed and conquered

Lenape until the British asserted their power.

A people pillaged by Norsemen then Englishmen.

My Irish ancestors can empathize

and how the hell does one acquire

the rights to ransack a history?

And I, a descendant of death

feel the descent from a green rock

unto the New World as if a curse

as Europe’s outcast thrust upon

a foreign bosom poisonous

being between both continents

as if lost betwixt breasts unbound

as I know who raped my ancestors

but don’t know my ancestors.

I, born on foreign farmland

don’t feel home anywhere

which is why I am attached to nowhere.