Mr Reductionist Materialism declared with glee
when he’s dead he will be gone, no soul or spirit
left; and he assured me joyously the same
lovely fate is awaiting me also
Pity when he’s dead he won’t be there to enjoy
my discomfiture on finding myself dead and
without soul or spirit; ah, a conundrum
there, I perceive – meanwhile
If his consciousness is still hanging around
it might take several ages to realize
he is still alive – guess who
will be laughing then?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem