There are things that science doesn’t know,
things that science doesn’t tell us
except that our loins grow together
with the rising of Arcturus, and
while we shiver and caress and
watch a planet’s light diminish
our loins intertwine; flower
beneath the final
Merely a minor uprising on Sol 3 MW-4911:
The official and only recorded notice
of the final rebellion.
We killed their last poet
in the first wave to fall.
He said, “Beauty isn’t binary.”)
(Or similar cryptic summary that
I may not clearly recall).
We captured millions when
the third wave collapsed,
jettisoned them without life support
After 10,500 x 14 hours of computer simulations we deduced the only solution to forestall our desiccation is called water. Water could have been collected from Sol 3 MW-4911, except we mined its arctic for minerals no longer of value and discarded it after centuries of disuse.
Have you seen our moon?
It hung like a scythe
on the night you were conceived.
And soon, on this shelf,
as temperatures fall,
I’ll push and breathe,
push and I’ll breathe and
Fear your emerging face.
© Phillip T. Stephens