Fly Me To Gilese

[beautifulloser]

on a mission in a vacuum, free
with outrageous ease, we're sat, defying
the incumbent choice fatigue of leaders
selling advantages of some probability
lead existence twenty years away;
if we were light enough

high stakes in titanic boats
at the top of society's order,
mutiny's our kind of crime if you leave
behind a surviving kind, on either side,
one point five times the size of this mother
without numbers, no zodiac might leave you
whacked and searching deep for plasters

hand selected cherries from the best of
civilisation, off on an expedition
nurtured from within a discworld turtle
hurtling to another galaxy

where a red dwarf lay it's solitary glare,
the stare of supposed predictable seasons
preaching an inherent obedience, in some
goldilock's zone with a virgin bride
flashing her nipples at Zeus in the ocean

no superstitious twats on board, brains
clean and primed for washing, repeating
old political tricks of fear inside
a mother's arm, swarms of messed up cognition
twists and a belly full of godly farts;
to stink the place out
and make it smell like home

I Love Gilese;
a photoshopped-up piece of cheese

[oranggunung]

Okay BL, I think I’ve got the background here:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/6589157.stm


The poem suggests (to me) a mission to populate the newly-discovered exoplanet. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate act of eco-terrorism? Aren’t dodos, Steller’s sea cows, cane toads, feral cats/rats/hedgehogs and chytrid fungus sufficient warnings? Perhaps not.

I orbited the piece a few times, but found the atmosphere impenetrable. My airlocks of perception just wouldn’t open. I shall persevere.


og

[tryp]

on a mission in a vacuum, free
with outrageous ease, we're sat, defying
the incumbent choice fatigue of leaders
selling advantages of some probability
lead existence twenty years away;
if we were light enough

high stakes in titanic boats
at the top of society's order,
mutiny's our kind of crime if you leave
behind a surviving kind, on either side,
one point five times the size of this mother
without numbers, no zodiac might leave you
whacked and searching deep for plasters

hand selected cherries from the best of
civilisation, off on an expedition
nurtured from within a discworld turtle
hurtling to another galaxy

where a red dwarf lay it's solitary glare,
the stare of supposed predictable seasons
preaching an inherent obedience, in some
goldilock's zone with a virgin bride
flashing her nipples at Zeus in the ocean

no superstitious twats on board, brains
clean and primed for washing, repeating
old political tricks of fear inside
a mother's arm, swarms of messed up cognition
twists and a belly full of godly farts;
to stink the place out
and make it smell like home

I Love Gilese;
a photoshopped-up piece of cheese

Wow - it's so hard for me to pick out anywhere to start with this poem - it's like a big tumult of words. That said, I like the way you take on a very playful tone here. Let me see how far I can get with a deeper reading. For one thing, I see you've read Terry Pratchett - I see a lot of him in this poem.
One thing I can say is that I would watch out for that ending couplet - it seems almost too blithe, especially with the extreme contrast in line lengths between the two lines. I would just take it out entirely.

I LOVE the image of the virgin bride and Zeus - easily my favorite part of the whole poem.

I think there's some amazing wordplay in this poem and some great images, as well as a deeper meaning that I think I can see a glimmer of. Still, I wonder if you're being a little too abstruse? This poem is very, very inaccessible, for all that it rewards a patient reading. Something to think on.